Coluntbta  ®nit)tm'tp 

THE  LIBRARIES 


Bequest  of 

Frederic  Bancroft 

1860-1945 


A  MAN  IN  EARNEST 


LIFE 


A.  H.  CONANT. 


ROBERT    COLLYER 


BOSTON: 

LEE    AND    SHEPARD,    PUBLISHERS. 

NEW  YORK: 

LEE,  SHEPARD  AND  DILLINGHAM. 

1872. 


.:^ 


<h 


u 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1868,  by 
HORACE  B.  FULLER, 
In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  District  of  Massachusetta. 


1 1^1  k  ^ 


N 


GEORGE    W.    HOSMER, 

PRESIDENT  OF  AIN^riOOH  COLLEGE, 
DEAR  FRIEND  ALIKE  OF  THE  SUBJECT  AND  THE  WRITER, 

^his  PRoi:|$8l  of  Biogijaphi} 

IS    DEDICATED. 


PREFACE 


When  what  was  mortal  of  Mr.  Conant  had  been 
laid  away,  many  friends  and  lovers  asked  me  to 
write  a  brief  sketch  of  his  life  ;  and  my  own  love 
for  him  prompted  me  to  try  and  meet  their 
wishes.  That  the  work  was  not  sooner  finished, 
I  trust  will  be  pardoned  on  account  of  my  many 
cares.  That  it  is  not  better  done,  must  be  my 
own  fault,  or  foolishness. 

R.  C. 

May  26,  1868. 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 
I.    FOREELDERS 9 

II.  Genesis  and  Exodus 26 

III.  Frontier  Farmer 40 

IV.  Student 60 

V.  Secular  but  Sacred  ...  .        .  85 

VI.  Missionary     ....  .         .  100 

VII.  Preacher  and  Pastor Ill 

VIII.  Transplanted  and  what  then  ?        .         .         .  137 

IX.  From  RocKroiiD  to  his  Rest  .        .        .  147 

X.  What  was  said  at  the  Geave-side    .       .        .  211 


A  MAN   IN   EARNEST. 


I. 

FOREELDE  RS. 

In  a  curious  little  manuscript  volume  inscribed 
"  Ebenezer  Conant,  his  book,  Asliburnham,  Jan. 
15, 1782,"  there  is  this  introductory  note  :  "  This 
book  was  made  by  my  dear  father,  Ebenezer 
Conant,  who  died  on  the  3d  of  August,  1783," 
and  then  these  words  about  the  Conant  family : 
"  I,  John  Conant,  was  born  in  Ashburnham, 
Mass.,  Feb.  2,  1773.  My  father's  name  was  Eb- 
enezer Conant ;  he  was  born  in  Concord,  Mass., 
Aug.  12,  1743.  His  father's  name  was  also 
fibenezer  Conant,  and  he  was  born  in  Beverly, 
Mass.,  Dec.  1,  1700.  His  father's  name  was 
Roger  Conant,  who  came  to  America  with  a  col- 
ony, about  1623,  and  settled  near  to  Marblehead 
or  Salem,  and  I  have  understood  that  he  was  the 
son  of  a  man  wlio  lived  in  France  when  the  per- 


10  FOREELDERS. 

secution  raged  there  against  the  Huguenots  ;  was 
a  Huguenot  himself,  and  fled  with  one  of  his 
brothers,  of  whom  altogether  there  were  seven, 
to  England,  there  to  enjoy  their  religion  in  free- 
dom and  peace.  My  mother's  name  was  Lydia 
Oakes ;  she  was  born  in  Stowe,  Mass.,  on  the  6th 
of  June,  1743,  and  my  father  and  mother  had 
seven  children  ;  namely,  Lydia,  born  Nov.  21, 
1768  ;  Sarah,  born  Oct.  17,  1770  ;  John  (mean- 
ing myself),  born  Feb.  2,  1773  ;  Nelsy,  born 
March  15,1775  ;  Ebbie,  born  June  6th,  1777  (on 
my  mother's  own  birthday)  ;  Calvin,  born  May 
30,  1779,  and  Luther,  born  June  24,  1782." 

It  is  the  Eben  born  on  his  mother's  birthday, 
ninety  years  ago,  who  is  still,  1868,  a  hale  and 
hearty  man,  living  in  Geneva,  Kane  County,  Illi- 
nois, who  is  the  father  of  Augustus  Hammond 
Conant,  the  subject  of  this  memoir.  The  manu- 
script from  which  I  have  made  these  extracts 
seems  to  have  been  written  jointly  by  Eben- 
ezer  and  John  Conant,  each  contributing  about 
one  hundred  pages  of  such  matter  as  was  to  him 
of  vital  moment.  The  contributions  of  the  fa- 
ther are  theological,  those  of  the  son  autobiograph- 
ical, an4  are  altogether   of  very  little   interest, 


FOREELDERS.  11 

except  as  they  can  throw  a  ray  of  light  into  the 
lives  of  these  Conants  of  eighty  and  a  hundred 
years  ago,  that  may  aid  us  to  see  better  the 
Conant  who  came  from  their  loins.  The  theo- 
logical works  of  the  Grandfather  Conant  are  1. 
A  Piece  wrote  upon  some  Jarring  Sentiments 
among  my  Brethren  about  Predestination  and 
Election.  2.  A  Profession  of  Faith.  3.  A  Letter 
to  Mr.  Lee.  4.  A  Discourse  on  the  Fall  and 
Recovery  of  Man.  5.  Thoughts  upon  a  Man's 
Spirit  being  generated  with  his  Body.  6.  A  Cov- 
enant.    7.  Thoughts  upon  the  New  Birth. 

It  touches  one  to  read  these  things  now,  and 
to  feel,  as  you  read,  that  they  must  have  come 
out  of  the  heart  of  a  man  who  was  all  on  fire 
about  them ;  yet  to  notice  how  they  are, 
dead  as  the  hand  that  trembled  over  the  pages 
when  they  were  penned.  One  or  two  things 
still  have  a  spark  of  life  left.  Here  is  a  sentence 
from  the  introduction  to  Thoughts  on  a  Man's 
Spirit  being  generated  with  his  Body:  *'After  a 
long  travail  of  mind  about  what  constitutes  or 
makes  up  the  man,  I  am  now  about  to  conclude, 
or  indeed  have  concluded,  that  I  have  always 
been  entirely  mistaken  about  the  whole  matter." 


12  FOREELDERS. 

There  is  also  a  touch  of  life  in  the  letter  to  Mr. 
Lee.  It  seems  that  this  Mr.  Lee,  of  Royalstone, 
ill  the  year  1782,  preached  a  sermon  in  Mr. 
Conant's  hearing,  in  which  he  set  forth  the  doc- 
trine that  heaven  is  the  purchase  for  the  sin- 
ner of  the  sufferings  of  Christ.  This  doctrine 
Ebenezer  Conant  could  by  no  means  allow.  So 
meeting  the  minister  after  sermon  at  the  house 
of  Mr.  Gushing,  he  gave  him  a  piece  of  his  mind 
about  it,  and  this  was  his  mind,  —  That  not 
heaven,  but  freedom  from  sin,  is  what  Christ 
purchased  through  his  sufferings.  How  long  the 
two  men  disputed,  the  record  does  not  tell. 
Judging  from  experience  and  from  what  followed, 
I  should  say  that  they  hammered  away  at  the 
thing  until  it  was  time  to  go  home,  and  then  left 
it  very  much  as  they  found  it. 

Ebenezer  Conant,  however,  will  not  allow  the 
matter  to  rest ;  he  sends  this  letter  off  at  once 
to  the  hapless  preacher  to  settle  him.  It  is  a 
strong  argument  of  the  sort  made  in  those  con- 
troversies in  wliich  men 

"  Squabble  for  words  upon  the  altar  floor, 
And  tear  the  book  in  struggles  for  the  binding;  " 

but  the  last  words  go  into  the  real  life  of  that 


FOREELDERS.  13 

old  time  in  a  curious  and  striking  manner,  and 
are  worth  preserving  :  — 

"  Suppose,"  Ebenezer  Conant  says,  "  that  Gov- 
ernor Hancock  should  purchase  a  number  of  pris- 
oners from  on  board  the  prison  ships,  and  set 
them  at  liberty  in  Whitehall.  Who  would  use 
such  an  unmeaning  term  as  to  say  that  the  Gov- 
ernor gave  the  money  to  purchase  Whitehall  and 
not  the  prisoners  ?  How,  then,  can  we  say  that 
Christ  purchased  heaven,  and  not  freedom  from 
sin  ?  From  your  friend,  Ebenezer  Conant. 
April  18,  1782." 

We  may  well  believe  how  the  good  man  would 
chuckle  over  this  parting  shot,  would  watch 
where  it  struck,  and  feel  sure  that  now  Mr.  Lee 
was  finally  and  forever  routed,  and  would  vend 
no  more  such  heresies  in  Royalstone. 

But  these  are  the  only  things  in  the  entire 
series  of  treatises  that  seem  to  have  any  life  left  in 
them ;  the  valuable  element  they  all  hold  besides 
is  the  revelation  they  make  of  this  Grandfather 
Conant,  as  intensely  interested  in  these  nice  points 
in  theology,  while  he  was  also  striving  to  raise  a 
large  family  on  a  small  and  poor  farm.  They 
were  to  him  supreme  questions  of  the  life  and 


14  FOREELDERS. 

soul.  How  he  became  so  interested,  John  Co- 
naiit,  the  son,  will  tell  us  presently.  What 
Ebenezer,  the  father,  tells  us  is  that  tlie  keen, 
high-questioning,  and  dissenting  spirit  wliich  had 
made  his  native  France  too  hot  for  the  old  Hugue- 
not Conant  was  back  and  busy  again  in  the  New 
England  farmer,  —  a  spirit  that  could  no  more 
be  laid  by  the  Congregational  minister  than  by 
the  Roman  priest. 

"  The  first  thing  that  I  can  remember,"  John 
Conant  says,  in  his  half  of  the  book,  "  was,  when 
two  years  and  a  half  old,  hearing  the  guns  fire 
at  the  Concord  fight ;  then,  when  I  was  seven 
years  old,  came  the  dark  days  of  May  20,  1780, 
when  the  people  ran  about  in  great  terror,  believ- 
ing that  the  end  of  the  world  had  come.  I  re- 
member holding  on  to  my  mother,  because  I 
felt  sure  I  should  be  more  safe  with  her  than  I 
could  be  with  any  other  person.  Then  I  remem- 
ber how  this  dark  day  brought  a  great  concern 
to  my  soul.  I  reflected  very  seriously  on  the 
awful  condition  I  should  be  in  if  the  world  should 
come  to  an  end.  In  the  midst  of  these  brood- 
ings,  a  Baptist  preacher  came  to  our  town.  The 
people  mocked  him  and  hooted  at  him  ;  but  some, 


FOREELDERS.  15 

out  of  curiosity,  went  to  hear  him.  Among  others 
my  father  and  mother  went,  and  they  came  home 
pricked  to  the  lieart.  Long  before  this,  on  the 
birth  of  their  first  child,  they  had  joined  the 
Congregational  cluirch  by  what  is  called  the 
half-way  covenant,  so  that  they  might  have 
their  children  sprinkled.  This  mock  baptism  was 
performed  on  myself  when  I  was  only  eight  days 
old.  Now  they  were  dissatisfied  with  the  half- 
way covenant  religion,  and  followed  the  Baptist 
minister  no  longer  from  curiosity,  but  to  obtain 
salvation. 

"  In  1781,  my  father  fell  sick  ;  he  was  sick  two 
years,  which  made  us  very  poor.  I  can  never 
forget  his  last  address  to  us,  made  the  week  be- 
fore he  died.  My  poor  mother  was  in  very  great 
distress  about  her  large  family  of  little  children. 
She  could  not  tell  how  we  should  live  when  he 
was  gone,  and  begged  my  father  to  give  some  of 
his  children  away  to  friends  who  would  gladly 
receive  them  if  he  gave  them  on  his  death-bed. 
But  when  she  had  done  speaking,  he  looked  up 
into  her  face  with  such  a  joyful  look  as  I  never 
saw  before  in  my  life,  and  said,  '  My  dear  wife, 
I  have  already  done  that.     I  have  given  away  all 


16  FOREELDERS. 

your  children  to  the  dearest  Friend  in  the  world  ; 
I  have  given  them  away  to  God.'  We  were  all 
there  to  hear  that,  and  we  never  forgot  it.  Then 
my  father  died  in  ahout  a  week,  as  I  said,  and 
this  is  part  of  a  little  poem  my  sister  made  for 
the  sad  occasion :  — 

•Come,  friends,  and  hear  my  mournful  theme; 
It's  not  a  fancy,  nor  a  dream ; 
But  'tis  as  sad  as  sad  can  be,  — 
My  father's  in  eternity.' " 

The  story  of  the  life  of  this  John  Con  ant 
would  be  well  worth  telling  for  its  own  sake,  if 
there  was  room  for  it  in  this  small  book.  The 
man  was  a  noble  specimen  of  that  sturdy,  capa- 
ble, self-contained  nature  only  found  in  its  per- 
fection in  New  England,  determined  always  to 
get  along  in  the  world,  to  gather  property  and 
influence,  but  with  a  solemn  religious  element 
woven  through  and  through  the  business  faculty. 
The  sort  of  man  most  faithful  wherever  he  is  found 
in  the  support  of  schools,  churches,  and  public 
libraries,  the  controlling  element  so  far,  thank 
God,  in  our  American  life  ;  for  what  is  pop- 
ularly known  as  the  Yankee  is  only  the  excep- 
tion to  this  ruling  man,  the  Yankee  being  only 


FOREELDERS.  17 

what  is  left  when  this  religious  element  has  rot- 
ted away,  —  a  new  New  England  man  without  a 
conscience  or  a  present  sense  of  God. 

When  John  Conant  stood  by  the  death-bed 
he  has  told  us  of  with  so  touching  a  pathos, 
he  was  only  just  turned  ten  years  of  age. 
But  he  says,  *'  Being  the  eldest  son,  the  sole 
management  of  our  small  farm,  with  what  as- 
sistance my  mother  could  render,  fell  on  my 
shoulders  ;  so  my  labors  on  the  farm  were  very 
hard  for  a  boy,  and  so  incessant  that  I  had  very 
little  time  for  books  and  learning.  What  small 
chance  I  had,  however,  I  improved  to  the  utmost, 
learnt  to  read  and  write,  and  arithmetic  as  far  as 
the  rule  of  three.  These  advantages  were  all  I 
could  ever  command  when  I  was  a  boy  ;  but  we 
always  maintained  our  family  worship,  and  as 
my  father  left  a  chest  of  carpenter's  tools,  my 
natural  talent  led  me  to  use  them  to  such  advan- 
tage that  I  soon  became  skilful  in  joiner's  work. 
I  got  along  so  well  in  this  that  when  I  was  seven- 
teen, I  built  for  my  mother  a  saw-mill,  and  then, 
as  I  never  did  love  farming,  1  began  to  work  as 
a  journeyman  carpenter,  and  so  at  eighteen  I 
2 


18  FOREELDERS. 

found  that  I  could  hold  my  own  with  the  good 
workmen  in  our  town." 

"After  some  time,"  John  Conant  continues, 
""  while  at  work  at  my  trade,  I  hurt  my  arm  on 
the  elbow.  The  hurt  turned  to  a  white  swelling, 
and  all  the  doctors  told  me  I  must  have  my  arm 
amputated.  This  news  distressed  me  dreadfully. 
I  could  not  bear  the  thought,  so  I  determined  to 
see  what  I  could  do  to  save  the  arm,  in  spite  of 
the  doctors.  Hearing  of  a  noted  student  at  a 
distance,  I  left  home,,  and  travelled  eighteen 
miles  on  foot,  in  extreme  pain,  to  see  this  new 
man.  He  encouraged  me  to  believe  that  I  could 
be  cured ;  so  I  stayed  with  him  a  long  time,  he 
doing  all  he  could  to  save  my  right  arm,  and  I 
doing  all  I  could  to  work  for  him  with  my  left. 
And  so  it  came  to  pass  at  last  that  I  was  cured, 
and  the  doctor  did  not  charge  me  much  either, 
because,  as  he  said,  I  was  a  good  boy,  and  had 
done  all  I  could  to  help  him  too ;  so  I  returned 
home  with  two  sound  arms  and  a  grateful  heart 
to  my  mother." 

After  this,  John  Conant  is  promoted  to  be  mas- 
ter of  the  inside  work  in  the  new  Bolton  meeting- 
house, but  as  lie  finds  the  Bolton  minister  is  ex- 


FOREELDERS.  19 

tremely  stupid,  be  walks  five  miles  every  Sunday, 
to  hear  a  man  who  pleases  him  better. 

Ill  the  fall  of  1794,  he  gets  married,  and  then 
finds  it  is  time  to  be  looking  round  for  a  larger 
place  than  the  old  homestead  ;  so  he  heads  a 
little  party  of  four,  and  starts  for  what  was  then 
the  wilderness  of  Western  New  York.  There 
they  buy  land,  cut  a  road  through  fifteen  miles 
of  brush  to  get  at  it,  do  not  like  the  place  at  all 
when  they  come  to  see  it,  and  so  return  home. 
After  this,  being  on  a  visit  to  Brandon,  Vermont, 
he  saw  the  Falls  there,  bought  them  on  credit 
for  $1,133.34,  returned  home,  removed  the  fam- 
ily at  once,  and  went  to  work  to  build  a  dam. 
The  result  is  in  his  own  words :  "  With  good 
health  and  courage,  the  Lord  hath  so  prospered 
me  ever  since  that  time  that  I  feel  sure  that  1 
did  my  duty." 

Here  in  Brandon  John  Conant  found  a  fee- 
ble Baptist  church,  which  he  gathered  into  his 
house  when  the  weather  was  cold,  and  when  it 
was  warm,  into  his  shop ;  but  in  1800  he  writes, 
"  I  myself,  I  say  it  with  modesty,  being  the  main 
man,  with  eleven  others  built  a  meeting-house 
forty  feet  by  thirty-five,  and  there  we  worshipped 


20  FOREELDERS. 

thirty-nine  years."  In  1801,  he  was  made  justice 
of  the  peace  ;  in  1806,  clerk  to  the  church ;  in 
1809,  he  was  chosen  to  represent  the  town  in  the 
Legislature ;  in  1815,  was  appointed  by  govern- 
ment to  assess  the  town  for  a  direct  tax  ;  and  was 
a  member  of  that  Electorial  College  for  choosing 
a  president  which  resulted  in  the  choice  of  Harri- 
son. In  1818  he  was  made  deacon  of  his  church, 
which  office  he  says,  "  I  consider  the  most  hon- 
orable and  responsible  ever  conferred  on  me  by 
mortal  man."  After  this,  he  built  a  dwelling- 
house,  a  stone  mill,  a  seminary,  some  brick 
stores,  and  a  grist  mill  that  cost  eight  thousand 
dollars.  When  his  people  had  occupied  their 
meeting-house  thirty-nine  years,  he  writes,  "  Be- 
fore I  die,  I  want  to  see  a  better  place  of  worship, 
such  as  will  be  in  all  respects  respectable,  and 
where  others  may  be  induced  to  come  and  hear 
for  tliemselves.  So  I  feel  it  my  duty  to  go 
ahead,  and  build  such  a  house."  And  in  1833, 
the  house  is  finished,  and  the  church  so  blessed 
as  to  satisfy  him  fully  for  all  his  sacrifices,  priva- 
tion, and  toil.  In  1843,  when  he  was  threescore 
and  ten,  John  Conant  felt  a  great  longing,  before 
he  thould  die,  to  see  the  great  West.     He  had  a 


FOREELDERS.  21 

strange  impression  that  he  should  never  return 
home  alive,  but  that  did  not  matter  ;  he  felt  he 
must  go  West.  And  so  he  made  all  ready  as  a 
man  going  on  a  way  whence  he  should  not  re- 
turn, commended  himself  to  God,  and  started  for 
Rochester.  After  a  happy  visit  with  his  chil- 
dren, who  were  settled  in  Rochester,  he  left  for 
Butfalo,  thence  by  steam  to  Cleveland,  thence  to 
Cincinnati,  St.  Louis,  Galena,  Mineral  Point, 
Milwaukie,  Chicago,  St.  Joseph,  Detroit,  and 
then  liome  again.  "  So  mercifully  was  an  old 
man  of  over  seventy  preserved  in  all  this  long 
and  dangerous  journey." 

And  so  within  this  story  of  a  dutiful  and  help- 
ful outward  life,  told  by  the  man  in  a  way  that 
would  seem  like  egotism  if  the  life  itself  were  not 
so  full  of  quiet  heroism,  we  can  see  that  John 
Conant  held  and  nursed  a  sweet  and  well-toned 
religious  spirit  always,  and  we  gather  from  it  all, 
that,  in  some  deeper  way  than  that  of  the  common 
daily  bread,  the  faith  in  which  the  father  had 
given  all  his  children  to  God  on  his  death-bed  had 
borne  its  fruit,  and  the  look  on  the  face  of  the  dy- 
ing man,  such  as  they  who  saw  it  had  never  seen 
before,  was  the  light  from  the  immanent  heaven. 


22  POREELDERS. 

The  language  in  which  the  little  story  is  told  is 
cast  in  the  common  mould  of  the  time  and  the  sect ; 
but  the  struggle  and  victory  it  records  is  com- 
mon to  all  times  and  to  every  faithful  soul.  The 
book  closes  with  these  sentences  :  "  On  the  30th 
day  of  July,  1786,  the  church  obtained  a  faint 
hope  for  me,  and  I  had  also  a  faint  hope  for 
myself.  I  was  on  that  day  baptized  and  greatly 
enjoyed  the  ordinance,  and  I  look  back  to  that 
time,  now  I  am  an  old  man,  and  ask  if  I  have 
done  my  duty  ?  I  regret  I  have  not  done  more, 
and  yet  I  have  done  so  much  that  I  wonder  at 
it  when  I  consider  my  feeble  powers,  and  I  bless 
God  that  the  outlook  ahead  grows  brighter  and 
brighter.  Just  one  month  to  a  day  after  liis 
inaugural  address  our  President  is  dead.  Why 
is  he  taken  and  I  left  ?  Is  there  any  good  still 
that  I  can  do  ?  Then  God  help  me  to  do  it. 
Time  looks  very  short  now,  yet  I  do  not  grieve 
for  this,  because  I  know  that  when  I  have  done 
my  work,  I  shall  cheerfully  leave  it  for  a  happy 
home.  My  path  has  been  strewn  witli  blessing, 
but  I  cannot  say  I  want  to  live  my  life  over  again, 
because  I  am  not  sure  if  I  did,  whether  I  should 
mend  the  bad  places  in  it,  or  make  more.     And 


FOREELDERS.  23 

it  has  been  a  very  great  luxury  for  me  to  give 
my  property  to  the  cause  of  God,  —  so  great,  in- 
deed, that  I  fear  sometimes  that  I  have  given  it 
from  a  selfish  motive.  May  the  Lord  forgive  me  if 
this  be  so.  I  have  tried  to  keep  to  a  higher 
motive  ;  and  now,  in  these  my  last  days,  I  can 
truly  say  I  am  happy  in  my  wife,  my  children, 
my  family  connections,  in  society,  in  the  church, 
in  my  minister,  and  in  God. 

'  Let  the  sweet  hope  that  thou  art  mine 
My  life  and  death  attend  ; 
Thy  presence  through  my  journey  shine, 
And  crown  my  journey's  end.' " 

This  is  all  that  need  be  said  about  the  Conant 
foreelders,  but  this  much  1  have  felt  I  must  say. 
About  the  grandfather,  who,  eighty  years  ago, 
went  so  quietly  into  his  rest  leaning  upon  God, 
and  this  good  John  Conant,  who  has  also  found 
the  rest  that  remains.  Both  together  reveal  a 
sound  natural  and  spiritual  life.  They  were 
closely  knitted  to  our  life  as  it  is,  were  full  of 
its  deep  sympathies  and  active  duties.  Every 
line  I  have  found  about  these  old  Conants  shows 
me  that  they 

"  Wore  the  white  lily  of  a  blameless  life." 


24  FOREELDERS. 

That  of  itself  is  often  no  small  matter,  but  they 
did  more  than  that ;  they  did  their  share  to  plant, 
deep  and  strong,  what  to  them  were  the  very 
foundations  of  all  true  prosperity,  religious  con- 
victions, and  religious  institutions.  And  so 
Ebenezer  Conant,  with  his  seven  treatises,  and 
John  Conant,  with  his  endless  religious  activi- 
ties, as  well  as  the  good  old  man,  still  working 
and  worshipping  among  us  after  more  than 
ninety  years,  are  of  the  true  stock  of  this  man 
whose  life  I  mean  to  write,  true  spiritual  as  well 
as  natural  foreelders. 

When  a  gentleman,  lately  watching  a  de- 
signer at  work  in  one  of  our  New  England  fac- 
tories, said  to  him,  "  How  long  have  you  been 
learning  to  do  that  ? "  the  man  replied,  "  Six 
hundred  years  ;  so  long  ago  the  first  of  us  began 
to  design,  and  we  have  been  at  it  ever  since."  It 
is  so  with  many  things ;  it  runs  in  the  blood, 
men  say.  That  is  but  a  hint  of  the  real  truth  ; 
it  runs  in  that  which  informs  the  blood.  And 
when  our  Scriptures  are  so  constant  to  this, 
that  through  certain  lines  certain  men  must 
come  to  us,  they  show  us  that  always  these  spirit- 


FOREELDERS.  25 

Tial  and  natural  facts  have  been  recognized,  and 
that,  — 

"  So  the  old  order  changeth  to  the  new, 
And  God  fulfils  himself  in  many  ways  " 


n. 

GENESIS    AND    EXODUS. 

Augustus  Hammond  Conant,  the  only  son  of 
Ebenezer  Conant  and  Fanny  Clifford,  his  wife, 
was  born  in  Brandon,  Vermont,  on  the  16th  of 
October,  1811.  The  story  told  of  his  childhood 
and  youth  is  like  all  such  stories,  simple  and 
brief.  He  was  full  of  affection,  and  was  truthful 
and  gentle,  always  loved  one  little  kinsman  so 
well  that,  though  they  were  parted  at  four  years 
old,  when  Augustus,  seventeen  years  after,  was 
on  his  way  through  the  West,  he  turned  out  of 
his  way  to  see  his  friend's  face  again,  and  take 
up  the  thread  of  their  child-love.  It  is  remem- 
bered that  while  still  a  small  boy,  some  other  boy 
did  a  mischief  for  which  Augustus  was  blamed  ; 
but  though  he  got  a  severe  whipping,  he  would 
not  betray  his  companion.  In  the  summer  of 
his  fourth  year  he  was  sent  to  school,  and  there 
he  presently  won  this  certificate,  which  is  still  in 


GENESIS   AND    EXODUS.  27 

existence  in  the  teacher's  own  hand,  and  very 
much  adorned  with  flourishes :  "  This  may  certify 
that  Augustus  Hammond  Conant  is  a  very  good 
scholar,  and  has  particularly  excelled  his  class  in 
spelling.     Signed,  Harriet  Stebbings." 

In  tliis  first  summer  at  school  the  boy  got 
along  so  well  as  to  be  able  to  read  easily  in  Web- 
ster's old  spelling-book.  After  this,  he  only  went 
to  school  as  he  could  be  spared  from  the  farm  his 
father  had  got  in  Brandon  ;  but  he  made  so 
good  a  use  of  his  time  that  as  he  grew  up  he  began 
to  dream  about  a  liberal  education  and  a  profes- 
sion. But  Ebenezer  Conant,  his  father,  thought 
there  were  too  many  professional  men  already  ;  he 
feared,  also,  tliat  a  course  of  study  would  unfit 
his  son  for  the  active  duties  of  life  ;  he  preferred, 
also,  that  Augustus  should  be  a  farmer,  and  so, 
at  last,  it  was  settled  that  a  farmer  he  should  be. 
There  is  hardly  a  word  about  these  days  in  the 
letters  that  have  come  to  me,  but  I  have  learned 
from  those  who  knew  Mr.  Conant  intimately, 
that  he  did  not  like  to  talk  about  his  early  youth ; 
would  only  now  and  then  mention  it,  and  then 
it  was  to  recall  some  wonderful  Saturday  after- 
noons, when,  the  week-days'  toil  being  over  and 


28  GENESIS   AND    EXODUS. 

the  Sunday's  toil  not  yet  begun,  he  would  go  out 
alone  and 

"  Bathe  his  weary  soul 

In  seas  of  heavenly  rest." 

Wandering  over  pasture  and  by  woodland  where- 
ever  he  would,  the  memory  of  these  days  never 
left  him ;  but,  on  the  whole,  the  alternation  be- 
tween hard  week-days  and  hard  Sundays  pressed 
heavily  on  his  life  then,  and  on  his  memory  for- 
ever after. 

When  he  was  about  nineteen,  I  find  this  bud 
of  promise  on  the  tree  of  his  life  :  ''''July  14, 1830. 
I,  Augustus  Hammond  Conant,  do  tliis  day  re- 
solve to  break  myself  of  every  evil  practice,  and 
to  forsake  every  sin  as  revealed  to  me  by  the 
light  of  reason.     So  help  me  God  !  " 

It  seems  tliat  a  protracted  meeting  had  been 
field  during  the  previous  winter  in  a  neighbor's 
house  ;  that  the  youth  had  gone  there,  and  been 
touched  by  what  he  heard.  He  was  stirred  in 
this  way  to  take  a  step  toward  joining  some 
church  ;  but  he  was  dissatisfied  with  Calvinism, 
had  got  a  glimpse  somewhere  of  the  glorious 
doctrine  of  universal  salvation,  and  wanted  to 
see  more  of  it.     His  sister  reports  a  talk  she  had 


GENESIS    AND    EXODUS.  29 

with  him  at  this  time,  which  gave  her  great  un- 
easiness as  to  his  orthodoxy.  But  during  the 
next  summer,  declaring  openly  his  doubts  about 
eternal  damnation,  he  offered  himself  for  mem- 
bership to  the  Baptist  church  in  Pittsford,  of 
which  his  parents  were  members,  and  was  bap- 
tized and  taken  into  full  communion.  In  the 
winter  following  he  taught  school,  in  the  summer 
again  worked  on  the  farm  ;  altogether  his  life 
was  opening  into  a  quiet  and  gracious  content- 
ment ;  he  grew  in  favor  both  with  God  and  man. 
One  letter  still  ^exists  written  at  this  time  to  his 
sister.  It  is  notable  for  a  longing  to  enter  more 
deeply  into  a  personal  experience  of  what  there 
is  no  better  name  for  than  the  grace  of  God  in 
the  soul,  and,  also,  for  the  record  of  what  seems 
to  have  been  his  first  bruise  against  the  myste- 
ries of  Providence.  He  says,  "  The  other  morn- 
ing 1  awoke  in  the  gray  of  light,  and  going  to  my 
window,  saw  that  it  was  raining  heavily.  It  had 
been  raining  so  for  some  time  past  that  every- 
thing was  afloat  and  rotting  with  the  wet;  then  I 
said  in  my  heart.  How  can  a  good  God  send  so 
much  rain  to  destroy  all  our  hopes  ?  But,  pres- 
ently, something  said.  As  men  now  live  they  love 


30  GENESIS    AND    EXODUS. 

the  pleasures  of  the  world  so  well,  mixed  as  they 
are  with  pain,  that  they  can  hardly  find  time  for 
a  single  thought  of  God.  Now  if  our  pleasures 
were  perfect,  is  it  not  probable  that  we  should 
never  think  of  him  at  all  ?  "  A  curious  specu- 
lation with  a  curious  conclusion,  that  the  best 
way  to  bring  a  man  to  God  is  to  snub  and  disap- 
point him.  But  this  stirring  in  the  young  man's 
nature  was  not  to  be  satisfied  with  these  things. 
Indeed,  it  was  less  a  baptism  of  water  than  of 
fire,  and  the  new  birth,  a  prophecy  always  of  a 
new  life,  was,  in  this  instance,  to  find  a  noble 
and  ample  fulfilment. 

The  gold  and  silver  mines  of  the  far  West  in 
those  days  were  the  virgin  prairies  of  Illinois,  to 
which  the  attention  of  the  East  was  just  then  es- 
pecially directed.  The  State  at  that  time  was 
but  sparsely  settled  ;  the  whole  number  of  inhab- 
itants hardly  exceeded  the  present  population  of 
Chicago,  and  that  was  mainly  confined  to  the 
central  and  southern  tiers  of  counties,  and  it 
was  a  weary  way  from  the  Green  Mountains  to 
the  far  West  before  the  days  of  railroads.  But 
then  tliere  was  an  adventurous  tingle  in  the  Co- 
nant  blood.     Had  not  Uncle  John  once  cut  his 


GENESIS    AND    EX0DU8.  31 

way  through  fifteen  miles  of  wilderness  ?  And 
there  was  money  in  Ebenezer  Conant's  locker,  and 
friends  and  kinsfolk  scattered  all  the  way  west- 
ward from  Brandon  to  Vandalia.  So  to  the 
West  young  Conant  determined  to  go,  that,  at 
least,  he  might  spy  out  the  land.  He  started  in 
September,  1832,  a  month  before  he  was  twenty- 
one  years  old. 

Of  this  journey  the  young  man  kept  a  brief 
journal  that  is  quite  interesting  now  for  the 
quick  glances  at  life,  it  has  preserved,  along  the 
line  of  travel  westward  thirty-five  years  ago. 

Starting  from  Whitehall,  in  the  canal-boat 
"  Missanic,"  Mr.  Conant  went  by  Fort  Ann  and 
Fort  Miller  to  Saratoga.  He  was  delighted  with 
the  valley  of  the  Mohawk  and  its  fine  fertile  soil, 
but  was  told  that  most  of  the  farms  were  owned 
by  Dutchmen,  who  would  not  sell  a  farm  for 
money  enough  to  cover  it.  Not  a  bad  idea,  one 
thinks,  of  the  Dutchmen,  because  a  farm  for 
farming  purposes  should  always  be  considered  to 
be  worth  still  more  to  the  man  who  has  it  than  to 
the  man  who  wants  it.  At  Schenectady,  a  place  of 
considerable  business,  he  notices  that  the  old  build- 
ings are  all  in  the  Gothjc  style,  with  very  shg|,rp 


32  GENESIS    AND    EXODUS. 

roofs  ;  and  here  he  saw,  for  the  first  time,  a  rail- 
road, on  which  were  two  cars  fastened  together, 
and  carrying  from  twenty  to  thirty  passengers,  all 
drawn  by  one  horse  at  a  speed  of  a  mile  in  five 
minutes,  —  he  was  told.  He  is  charmed  with 
Little  Falls,  and  pronounces  it  the  most  beauti- 
ful place  he  ever  saw.  He  admires  Utica,  finds 
Palmyra  a  thriving  village,  the  farms  about  it 
good,  and  the  land  valued  at  about  twenty-seven 
dollars  an  acre,  while  wheat  sells  at  from  seventy- 
five  cents  to  a  dollar  a  bushel.  In  one  week 
from  the  time  he  left  home,  Mr.  Conant  had  come 
to  Rochester,  and  there  he  saw  the  place  from 
which  poor  foolish  Sam  Patch  had  made  his  last 
leap  into  the  dark.  Then  he  came  to  Buffalo, 
where  he  found  friends  and  a  fine  city,  that,  he 
was  told,  had  increased  in  wealth  and  popula- 
tion beyond  estimate  since  the  Grand  Canal  was 
opened. 

From  Buffalo,  on  the  steamboat  "  Superior,"  he 
went  to  Detroit,  and  among  the  things  which 
impressed  him  on  his  way  there,  he  makes  special 
mention  of  the  greatness  of  Cleveland  as  a  place 
of  business,  and  he  himself  counted  no  less  than 
twelve  schooners  there  besides  canal-boats.     They 


GENESIS   AND    EXODUS.  33 

encountered  a  heavy  storm  after  leaving  Cleve- 
land, in  which  the  steamer  "  bounded  like  a  puff- 
ball  on  the  billows,"  but  our  young  traveller 
managed  to  escape  the  general  sea-sickness  by 
lying  still  on  his  back,  and  so,  without  further 
adventure  they  came  finally  to  Detroit,  where  he 
put  up  at  Campbell's  Hotel,  finding  good  quarters. 
So  far  the  journey  West  had  been  an  easy  and 
a  pleasant  one  ;  walking  or  riding,  as  suited  him 
best,  he  had  encountered  no  hardships  and  under- 
gone little  fatigue.  But  from  Detroit  to  Chicago, 
and  thence  to  the  Mississippi,  Mr.  Conant  adopted 
another  programme ;  he  determined  to  foot  it. 
He  gives  no  reason  for  this  in  his  journal,  but 
from  what  I  can  gather  otherwise,  I  think  it 
probable  that  when  he  landed  in  Detroit,  he  found 
ihat  his  purse  was  still  lighter  even  than  his 
fatigue ;  it  was  natural,  also,  that  a  young  man 
should  want  to  see  the  wonderful  country  he  had 
come  to  study,  in  some  more  intimate  way  than 
from  the  deck  of  a  steamboat  or  the  inside  of  a 
stage,  if  there  had  been  a  stage  then  on  the  route 
he  intended  to  take.  "  Starting  on  the  Monday 
from  Detroit,"  he  says,  "  over  the  worst  roads  I 
had  ever  seen,  I  went  forward  and  westward  on 
3 


34  GENESIS   AND    EXODUS. 

foot,  and  came  that  evening,  footsore  and  very 
weary,  to  Saline,  where  I  met  a  party  of  soldiers 
returning  from  the  Indian  war."  Jonesville  he 
found  a  town  of  two  frame  and  four  log  houses. 
On  the  Cold  Water  Prairie  he  saw  six  deer  in  one 
herd,  and  again  met  a  party  of  soldiers,  with  cav- 
alry and  forty  wagons.  Passing  through  a  thick 
forest  after  this,  and  being  very  hungry  and  tired, 
he  came  at  last  to  the  house  of  a  lonely  settler, 
where  he  rested,  while  the  good  backwoods  woman 
made  him  eat  some  bread  and  milk  and  honey, 
for  which  he  could  not  prevail  on  her  to  take  any 
pay,  which  generosity  brings  the  reflection,  as  he 
walks  on  again,  that  he  had  found  greater  kind- 
ness in  those  lonely  backwoods  than  in  the  splen- 
dors of  crowded  villages.  On  the  Sunday  he  came 
to  White  Pigeon,  where  he  attended  meeting  all 
day.  On  Monday  to  Niles,  which  he  found  quite 
a  village,  with  four  stores  and  two  taverns,  and 
here  he  rested  three  days,  built  a  chimney,  and 
taught  a  class  of  four  young  men  stenography, 
by  which  he  more  than  made  expenses.  Finally , 
refreshed,  he  started  again  westward,  but  being 
belated  that  night,  he  was  lost  in  a  swamp, 
where  he  plunged  about  for  a  long  time   until 


GENESIS    AND    EXODUS.  35 

at  last  seeing  a  light  at  a  distance,  he  hallooed 
as  loud  as  he  could,  and  was  rescued  by  a  boy 
with  a  lantern.  On  the  Saturday  he  walked 
through  part  of  Indiana  to  the  house  of  an  old 
Frenchman,  who,  married  to  a  squaw  and  living 
on  the  Indian  lands,  w4th  no  other  house  for  fifty 
miles,  devotes  himself,  Mr.  Conant  says,  to  the 
fleecing  of  such  hapless  travellers  as  must  either 
stop  with  him  or  sleep  in  the  woods.  On  the  Sun- 
day he  came  to  Lake  Michigan,  and  travelled 
thirty-five  miles  on  its  pleasant  pebbly  beach,  and 
so  at  last,  on  Monday,  the  fifteenth  day  out  from 
Detroit,  he  came  to  Chicago. 

In  the  Chicago  of  1832,  however,  Mr.  Conant 
found  nothing  worth  his  notice  except  Fort  Dear- 
born. He  thinks  the  town  is  so  situated  that  it 
will  eventually  become  a  place  of  considerable 
importance  ;  but,  resting  only  an  hour  in  Chica- 
go, he  started  for  the  Fox  River  country.  "  Eigh- 
teen miles  out  from  Chicago,"  he  says,  "  I  slept 
with  a  wagoner  under  his  wagon,  and  woke  up  in 
the  morning  to  find  a  sharp  frost."  At  the 
Dupage  he  found  the  little  settlement  rapidly  re- 
covering from  the  horrors  of  the  Indian  war. 
Heard  that  not  less  than  a  hundred  houses  had 


36  GENESIS    AND    EXODUS. 

been  built  during  the  past  three  years  in  a  circuit 
of  twenty-five  miles,  and  that  the  settlers  now 
raise  all  they  need  for  their  living. 

Near  the  Bureau  River,  he  lost  his  way,  but 
found  it  again  when  night  came  on  by  the  prai- 
rie fires  stretching  for  vast  distances  along  the 
horizon.  Stopping  on  the  Sunday,  after  a  walk 
of  twenty-five  miles,  he  went  to  a  Methodist 
meeting,  and  there  found  such  confusion  and 
clamor  as  he  had  never  witnessed  before  in  the 
name  of  religion,  in  all  his  life.  At  Ellis'  Mill, 
where  he  stopped  next  day,  after  walking  only 
twenty  miles,  because  it  was  twenty-five  miles  then 
to  the  next  house,  he  found  that  the  wolves  in  that 
region  were  fearfully  troublesome,  destroying  the 
sheep  and  hogs  so  that  it  was  hardly  possible  to 
keep  any.  But  he  found,  also,  that  wild  honey 
was  so  abundant  in  the  blufis  and  banks  of  the 
river  that  the  bee-hunters  sold  it  for  three  cents 
a  pound  ;  and  the  land  is  so  rich  that  turnips  are 
raised  that  weigh  twenty-five  pounds.  In  this 
wild  countj-y  Mr.  Conant  again  lost  his  way,  and 
was  most  of  all  distressed  because  he  could  not 
see  a  single  tree  "  any  more  than  if  he  had  been 
in  the  middle  of  the  Atlantic  ;  "  found  his  way 


GENESIS    AND    EXODUS.  37 

at  last,  however,  after  much  wandering  and  some 
suffering,  and  so  came  finally,  without  any  other 
adventure,  to  the  Mississippi,  crossing  which  river 
he  landed  at  Keokuk  Point,  there  intending  to 
wait  for  a  steamboat  to  the  mouth  of  the  Ohio. 

Keokuk,  he  found  in  those  early  days  a  sink 
of  depravity,  by  far  the  most  wicked  place  he 
had  ever  seen  in  his  life.  But  instead  of  fretting 
over  what  he  was  as  yet  powerless  to  amend,  he 
went  to  work  husking  corn,  chopping  wood,  and 
doing  chores  generally,  for  worthy  Mr.  Campbell, 
a  sort  of  second  Lot  in  this  Iowa  Sodom,  delight- 
ed every  day  with  the  sight  of  acres  and  acres  of 
wild  ducks  and  geese  on  the  river,  and  islands 
within  sight  of  where  he  was  at  work. 

Taking  a  passage  at  last  in  the  ''  William  Wal- 
lace," he  went  down  the  river.  Quincy  he  found, 
even  then,  a  notable  town,  with  a  fine  hum  of 
business  about  it.  St.  Louis  was  a  city  of  six 
or  eight  thousand  souls,  the  streets  very  narrow 
and  poorly  paved,  and  the  old  French  buildings 
mean  and  squalid,  but  disappearing  rapidly  before 
the  march  of  improvement. 

On  the  steamboat,  the  heart  of  the  wholesome, 
well-bred  Vermont  boy  turned  sick  at  the  sight 


38  GENESIS   AND    EXODUS. 

of  slaves,  and  the  clank  of  their  chains.  Help- 
less to  do  anything  but  fret,  he  could  only  turn 
for  relief  to  the  noble  and  beautiful  scenery 
through  which  they  were  gliding.  The  beautiful 
islands  covered  with  trees,  and  walled  thick  with 
grape-vines,  dusk  with  ripe  fruit  in  the  golden 
autumn  sunshine,  especially  attracted  him,  and 
made  him  wonder  at  the  fertility  of  this  new 
land.  At  the  mouth  of  the  Ohio,  he  makes  no 
mention  of  Cairo,  but  speaks  of  the  noble  trees 
there, — sycamore,  cottonwood,  elm,  and  myr- 
tle. Starting  then  up  the  Ohio,  and  leaving  the 
clank  of  the  chains,  he  was  still  shocked  by  the 
reckless  gambling  that  was  carried  on  all  day  and 
all  night  long.  Louisville  he  found  wonderful 
for  business,  so  crowded  with  steamboats  that  it 
was  difficult  to  land.  Cincinnati  was  a  large  and 
beautiful  town,  with  a  market  reported  to  be 
equal  to  that  of  Philadelphia  At  Parkersburg, 
then  not  much  of  a  place,  one  of  the  firemen  on 
the  boat  was  seized  on  the  suspicion  of  his  being 
a  slave,  but  he  had  his  papers  with  him,  though  it 
was  believed  on  the  boat  that  they  would  not 
have  saved  him  from  being  sold  down  the  river, 
had  not  the   captain  gone  with  him  before    the 


GENESIS    AND    EXODUS.  39 

magistrate  and  pulled  him  through.  At  this  the 
young  Vermonter  cries  out  in  his  diary,  "  1 
would  not  excliange  the  cold,  rough  hills  of  Ver- 
mont, uncontaminated  as  they  are  with  the  breath 
of  slavery,  for  the  finest  country  ever  cultivated 
by  the  slave."  Marietta  Mr.  Conant  found  a 
very  handsome  place  indeed  ;  Wheeling,  a  mile 
long,  built  of  brick,  and  containing  eight  thou- 
sand people ;  Steubenville,  flourishing  exceed- 
ingly, and  Pittsburg,  the  wonder  of  all  that  his 
eyes  had  ever  seen  since  he  left  home  for  elegance, 
grandeur,  and  business. 

From  Pittsburg,  he  took  the  stage  to  Erie, 
passing  through  Meadville,  then  a  very  busy  and 
important  place.  He  found,  when  he  got  to 
Erie,  that  the  steamboat  he  had  meant  to  take 
had  left,  so  he  started  on  foot  for  Buffalo,  forcing 
his  way  through  great  storms  of  rain  and  snow. 
Arriving  at  Buffalo,  he  found  his  kinsfolk  all  well, 
but  they  were  sure  that  he  had  fallen  a  victim  to 
the  cholera,  as  tliey  had  not  heard  from  him  for 
so  long.  And  so  at  last,  very  thankful  in  his 
heart,  he  came  to  his  home  among  the  cold,  rough 
hills  of  Vermont,  where  such  welcome  waited 
the  wanderer  as  we  may  guess,  but  are  not  told. 


iir. 


FRONTIER     FARMER. 

How  happy  is  the  coDditioii  of  an  honest  farmer, 
safe  in  his  own  resources  !  He  can  hear  the 
roar  of  tlie  great  storms  that  wreck  the  fortunes 
of  the  merchant,  but  the  changes  of  trade,  the 
pressure  of  hard  times,  all  the  ups  and  downs  of 
fortune  that  send  men  from  the  heights  of  wealth 
to  the  depths  of  poverty,  he  seldom  or  never  feels. 
He  sows  his  seed  in  hope,  and  reaps  his  harvest 
in  a  full  content ;  his  bank  is  full  of  potatoes ; 
his  stock  is  alive,  and  growing  ;  his  lots  are  not 
blocks  but  sections.  "  I  grow  more  than  content 
with  farming,  I  am  in  love  with  it." 

This  is  what  Mr.  Conant  writes  from  the  West 
in  a  letter  to  his  sister,  dateless,  but  from  an  al- 
lusion in  it  to  Yan  Buren,  written,  I  suppose,  in 
the  spring  of  1837.  He  had  then  been  in  the 
West  nearly  two  years ;  his  r^ort  of  the  good 
land  on  his  return  home  had  created  a  revolu- 
tion. 


FRONTIER   FARMER.  41 

New  England  is  a  dear  good  place  to  be  born 
in,  a  noble  nursery  of  men,  and  her  true  sons 
can  never  forget  their  true  mother ;  but  the 
family  is  large,  and  the  old  homestead  is  limited, 
and  so  it  came  to  pass  at  last  that  Eben  Conant, 
with  all  his  household,  determined  to  move  on  in 
the  track  of  the  sun. 

It  seems  that  there  was  already  land  located 
and  secured  to  P.  and  E.  Conant,  down  on  the 
Mississippi,  and  it  had  once  been  the  intention 
of  settling  there  ;  but  it  was  finally  determined  to 
stake  out  tlie  new  home  a  good  deal  farther  north. 
And  so  at  last  the  right  spot  was  found  on  the 
Desplaine  about  twenty  miles  north-west  of  Chi- 
cago. The  country  there  is  low  and  flat,  but 
very  fertile  and  easy  to  farm.  The  land  then 
was  just  as  the  Indians  had  left  it,  and  was 
not  even  surveyed ;  but  there  was  plenty  of 
wood  on  it,  and  wild  game  and  fish.  A  rising 
city  lay  within  a  day's  journey,  ready  to  take 
everything  that  could  be  raised,  and  pay  cash  for 
it,  and  to  supply  everything  that  was  needed  in 
return  ;  and  altogether  the  undertaking  was  full 
of  encouragement  to  a  prudent  and  enterprising 
man. 


42  FRONTIER    FARMER. 

Mr.  Coiiaiit,  who  went  at  once  on  land  of  his 
own,  kept  a  journal  of  his  career  as  a  frontier 
farmer,  from  the  first  of  January,  1836,  to  the 
middle  of  May,  1840.  It  is  a  brief  and  terse 
record  of  what  was  done,  as  real  in  its  own  way 
as  the  work  he  was  doing,  and  as  simple  and 
modest  as  the  man.  He  seldom  spares  more 
than  one  line  for  one  day,  and  sometimes 
writes  that  in  short-hand  ;  never  makes  a  reflec- 
tion, or  chronicles  a  mood  ;  says  a  good  deal  about 
the  weather,  but  it  is  mainly  about  clear  and 
sunny  weather,  a  delicate  intimation,  one  cannot 
but  feel,  of  tlie  weather  that  then  and  always 
prevailed  in  the  man's  own  soul;    for  — 

"Held  our  eyes  no  sunny  sheen, 
How  could  sunshine  e'er  be  seen?  " 

Beyond  tliis  turn  for  seeing  in  almost  every 
day  a  sun  day,  however,  nothing  can  be  more 
constant  and  true  to  the  hard,  bare  facts  of  the 
frontier  life  than  tliis  journal ;  yet  as  you  read 
on  Ihie  by  line,  the  index  at  last  opens  the  book 
of  his  life  to  you,  and  you  are  aware  of  a  certain 
power  and  pathos  in  the  brief,  downright  chroni- 
cles that  are  not  often  found  in  more  leisurely  and 
scholarly  journalizing.       Still   it   would    not   be 


FRONTIER   FARMER.  48 

well  to  print  the  record  line  by  line,  as  it  stands, 
in  this  little  book.  Most  of  it  could  have  no 
interest  to  the  reader  now.  And  so  taking  the 
first  dozen  entries  just  as  they  stand,  as  a  speci- 
men of  the  whole,  I  will  then  make  such  extracts 
as  I  hope  will  preserve  the  essential  spirit  of  the 
entire  work." 

"  1836,  Jan,  1.  Attended  to  the  survey  of  my 
claim. 

"  2.     Drew  rails. 

"  3.     Sunday.     Wrote  poetry. 

"  4.     Made  shelves  and  split  rails. 

"  5.     Went  to  Chicago  with  a  load  of  potatoes. 

"  6.  Sold  my  potatoes  for  seventy-five  cents  a 
bushel. 

"  7.  Cut  apples,  worked  at  my  house,  husked 
corn.  * 

"  8.  Attended  a  meeting  of  settlers  for  secur- 
ing to  each  man  his  present  claim. 

"  9.     Cut  rail  timber. 

'*  10.     Sunday.     Went  to  Chicago. 

"  11.     Commenced  thrashing. 

"  12.     Still  thrashing." 

This   is  the  literal  side   of  the  young  man's 


44  FRONTIER   FARMER. 

daily  prayer  for  daily  bread,  the  common  level 
God  had  ordained  he  should  keep,  with  now  and 
tlien  a  glimpse  into  deeper  and  higher  things, 
tliat  he  tries  at  first  to  turn  into  "  a  song,"  but 
at  last  into  "  a  sermon."  And  this  hither  and 
other  side  is  to  be  traced  clean  through,  together 
with  a  gradual  deepening  of  the  intellectual  and 
spiritual  life  and  power,  that  ends  in  his  going  to 
Cambridge  to  prepare  for  the  ministry,  while 
yet  the  common  level  is  relieved  here  and  there 
in  still  other  ways  more  akin  to  our  common 
life,  as  will  be  seen  in  some  of  the  quotations  I 
now  make  from  the  journal. 

"  1836.  Attended  a  meeting  called  to  get  the 
mail  route  changed  from  Chicago  to  Green  Bay, 
from  the  beach  of  the  lake  to  Auxplane  River. 

"  Attended  arbitration  between  father  and 
Rufus  Saule  ;  decided  in  favor  of  Rufus,  and  let 
him  have  some  potatoes. 

*'  Read  Mason  on  '  Self-knowledge.' 

"  Read  the  '  Latin  Grammar.' 

"  Brought  in  a  deer. 

"  Read  the  '  Life  of  Josephine.'  Got  out  wood 
for  chairs. 


FRONTIER   PARMER.  45 

"Made  a  coffin  for  Mrs.  Dougherty,  and  helped 
to  bury  her. 

^'  Made  and  bottomed  chairs. 

"  May  10.  Mrs.  Hoard  and  Betsy  Kelsey 
arrived. 

"  11.  Planted  corn  and  prepared  for  the  wed- 
ding. 

"  12.  Married  Betsy  Kelsey.  Weather  very 
fine  and  sunny. 

"  June  3.  Made  a  table,  and  borrowed  six 
bushels  of  potatoes,  to  be  paid  back  with  interest 
in  the  fall. 

"  4.  Wife  eighteen  to-day.  Made  a  few  arti- 
cles of  furniture. 

"  Read  '  Paley's  Natural  Theology.'  Meeting 
at  my  liouse.  Mr.  Kent  preached  again.  Made 
a  churn. 

*'  Sept.  28.  Heard  big  wolves  howling.  Hunt- 
ed deer. 

"  Worked  at  slioemaking. 

"  Made  a  coffin  for  H.  Dougherty. 

"  Plastered  my  house. 

*'  Dressed  pig  and  calves  torn  by  wolves. 

"  Dug  a  well. 

"  Killed  a  badger. 


46  FRONTIER  PARMER. 

^'  Killed  a  wolf. 

"  Corn  half  destroyed  by  blackbirds. 

"  Set  out  shade-trees.     Read  Cowper. 

"  Took  up  a  bee  tree  to  hive  for  honey. 

*'  Hunted  deer. 

"  Snow  a  foot  deep. 

"  Attended  a  Christmas  party. 

"1837,  May  4th.  Wrote  a  temperance  ad- 
dress. 

"11.  Temperance  meeting  at  my  house,  and 
society  formed. 

"  Read  the  '  Saturday  Evening  Post,'  and  wrote 
to  the  Patent  Office. 

"  Made  a  ditching-machine.  Read  '  Croly's 
British  Poets.' 

"  Read  the  Bible.  Read '  Dick's  Philosophy  of  a 
Future  State.'  Studied  Algebra.  Made  a  chest 
of  drawers. 

"  Hunted  a  panther.     Went  to  a  bridge-raising. 

"1838,  Feb.  18.  Meeting  at  my  house.  I 
read  a  sermon. 

"  Began  to  read  the  '  Western  Messenger.' 
Made  a  back-kitchen. 

"  Hewed  timber  for  a  barn. 

"  Made  a  wagon. 


FRONTIER    PARMER.  47 

"  Made  a  cheese-press. 

''  Unwell,  and  so  studied  algebra. 

"  Made  a  sun-dial. 

''  Aug,  19.     Sister  Harriet  died. 

"  20 .     Made  a  coffin  for  Sister  Harriet. 

'*  21.     Attended  Sister  Harriet's  funeral. 

"  Sept.  16.  Attended  meeting,  and  read  a 
sermon  of  Channing's. 

"  Oct.  16.     Went  to  the  mill. 

"  21.     Returned  from  the  mill. 

"  Read  the  '  History  of  Rome.' 

'-'  Hunted  deer. 

"  Nov.  13.  Rain.  Only  once  before  had  rain 
enough  to  soak  through  in  five  months. 

"  Went  to  the  miller's  to  read  Channing.  Read 
at  the  meeting  Channing  on  '  Self-denial.' 

"Unwell,  so  wrote  temperance  address. 

"  Temperance  meeting  ;  delivered  my  address. 

"  Read  '  Statement  of  Reasons.'  Circulated 
subscription-paper  for  a  school.     Mended  boots. 

"  1839,  Jan.  19.     Hunted  panther. 

"  Sat  jon  jury. 

"  Began  to  distribute  tracts.  Helped  to  make 
a  post-office. 

"  Wrote  a  temperance  address. 


48  FRONTIER   PARMER. 

''  May  12.  Attended  Unitarian  meeting  in 
Chicago. 

"  Read  '  Bancroft's  Sermons.' 

"  June  29.     Agreed  to  deliver  an  oration. 

"  Jult/  4th.     Delivered  my  oration. 

"  July  7th.  Attended  meeting  in  Chicago,  and 
became  acquainted  with  Mr.  Hosmer,  Mrs. 
Clarke,  and  Mrs.  Gale. 

"  18.     Got  my  oration  published,  and  paid  for. 

"  14.     Atteiided  Mr.  Hosmer's  meeting  again. 

"  Read  Home. 

"  Arranged  my  minerals. 

"  Distributed  oration. 

*'  Made  a  coffin. 

''Oct.  20.  Wrote  a  sermon  from  Matt.  vi. 
9,  27. 

"  Wrote  another  sermon. 

"  Read  Locke.     Examined  the  school-teacher. 

"  Wrote  a  sermon. 

"  1840,  Jan.  ^th.     Preached  at  McHenry. 

"  Feb.  1.     Wrote  a  funeral  sermon. 

''  9.     Preached    at   Geneva. 

"  25.     Preached  at  Geneva. 

"  Read  Norton  on  the  Trinity. 

"  Made  soap. 


FRONTIER    FARMER.  49 

"  Boiled  sugar. 

"  Wrote  a  sermon  on  the  Aim  of  Life. 
"  April  5.     Preached  at  Geneva. 
"  May  25.    Started  for  New  England,  to  attend 
the  Divinity  Scliool  in  Cambridge." 

These  extracts  need  no  comment ;  they  speak 
for  themselves.  I  have  printed  them  as  they 
stand  in  the  journal,  because  it  seems  most 
natural  to  let  tlie  words  tell  their  own  tale  in 
their  own  way.  What  more  there  is  to  tell 
about  this  period,  must  be  stated  as  briefly  as 
possible.  The  letters  reveal  nothing  more  than 
is  revealed  in  the  journal,  except  the  exceeding 
love  that  continually  filled  the  heart  of  the  writer 
for  the  friends  and  kinsmen  he  had  left  in  Ver- 
mont, and  brief  hints  of  the  struggles  through 
which  he  had  to  pass,  before  it  became  clear  to 
himself,  and  those  most  interested  in  his  move- 
ments, that  he  must  give  his  heart  utterly  to  the 
docti'iiie  of  tlie  one  God,  our  Father,  and  make 
his  open  profession  in  liarmony  with  his  inward 
faith  ;  and  then  that  he  must  give  up  every  plan 
he  had  projected  so  far,  on  the  ground  that  he  was 
to  be  a  farmer,  ajid  give  up  the  farm  itself,  with 


60  FRONTIER    FARMER. 

its  cherished  independence,  because  he  was  "sep- 
arated into  the  gospel  of  God." 

Two  things  beside  the  tendency  in  his  own 
nature,  and  what  naturally  came  of  it,  such  as 
going  to  Miller's  to  read  Channing  "  quickened 
this  movement."  The  Fourth  of  July  oration 
delivered  to  his  own  friends,  and  neighbors  on 
the  Desplaine,  turned  out  to  be  more  than  his 
hearers  had  expected.  Instead  of  reciting  the  com- 
fortable old  doctrine  common  to  the  occasion,  that 
there  was  no  such  freedom,  or  virtue,  or  valor  as 
ours  on  the  earth,  the  young  man  got  a  hard  gripe 
on  slavery,  held  it  up  in  the  face  of  the  July 
sun,  just  as  it  was,  went  on  to  show  that  such  a 
virtue  as  tliat  was  filthy  rags,  and  that  the  only 
valor  worth  the  name  was  that  which  dared  say 
so,  and  take  open  ground  against  the  old  rank 
lie.  The  consequence  came  instantly.  Mr. 
Conant  was  denounced,  reviled,  and  invited 
to  eat  his  words.  Instead  of  doing  that,  h^ 
went  to  Chicago,  and  got  the  oration  printed 
at  his  own  expense,  sent  it  flying,  broadcast, 
over  the  settlement,  and  so  became  known  at 
ouce  as  one  of  the  champions  for  freedom  in 
that  part  of  the   country.     But   before    this,    as 


FRONTIER    FARMER.  51 

the  journal  tells  us,  he  had  made  the  acquaint- 
ance of  Mrs.  Clarke,  the  mother  of  Rev.  James  F. 
Clarke,  in  her  day  the  greatest  missionary  of  our 
faith,  in  the  West,  among  women.  In  a  most 
interesting  letter,  written  a  few  months  before 
her  death,  Mrs.  Clarke  says, — 

"  I  remember  Mr.  Conant,  how  he  came  into  my 
son's  store  to  make  some  purchases,  and  while 
standing  at  the  counter,  took  up  the  *  Western 
Messeno;er,'  was  so  interested  in  it  that  he  forgot 
everything  besides  until  he  had  read  it  through 
and  then  asked  my  son  to  lend  him  all  that  he 
could  spare  to  take  home.  After  this,  when  Dr. 
Hosmer  came  up  from  Buffalo  to  preach  for  us, 
Mr.  Conant  came  in  to  hear  him.  I  saw  his  face 
as  I  went  in  to  meeting,  and  it  seemed  illuminat- 
ed with  the  feelings  that  filled  his  heart ;  I  intro- 
duced him  to  the  preacher  after  service,  and  the  re- 
sult was  that  Dr.  Hosmer  advised  him  to  go  East 
and  study  for  the  ministry,  offered  to  write  to  Dr. 
Ware  about  receiving  him,  and  to  the  Unitarian 
Association  to  help  him.  '  No,'  said  the  young 
man,  '  I  thank  you,  but  I  had  rather  not  begin  by 
begging.  I  will  sell  my  crops,  take  orders  for 
payment  on  Vermont,  and  then  take  my  wife  and 


62  FRONTIER   FARMER. 

two  children  to  live  there  with  their  folks,   while 
I  am  studying  in  Cambridge.' 

"  From  that  time  he  began  to  prepare  for  his 
new   life,   rose    very    early    every   morning  and 
studied  till  it  was  time  to  begin  work  on  his  farm, 
and    whenever,    besides,   he   could   get   a   spare 
moment,  and  then  in  the  spring  he  sold  his  crops, 
and  started  with  his  family  for  Vermont.     But 
when    he   arrived   there,    he   could   not  get  his 
checks   cashed,  and  so  feared  that,  after  all,  he 
would   be   compelled  to  give  up   his   plan.     He 
wrote  me  about  his  trouble,  and  that  he  was  de- 
termined to  go  to  Cambridge,  see  Dr.  Ware,  and 
lay  the  matter  before  him.     He  lost  his  way  in 
going,  and  began  to  feel  that  it  could  not  be  the 
divine  intention  he  should  study  for  the  ministry. 
He   arrived   at  last,  however,  and  began  to  tell 
the  Doctor  why  it  was  now  impossible  he   should 
come  to  school,  as  he  had  no   money ;  but  the 
Doctor  said,  '  I  have  a  letter  for   you,    perhaps 
that  may  help  you.'     On   opening  the  letter,  it 
was  found  to  contain  an  enclosure  of  fifty  dollars 
from  a  gentleman  who  had  heard  of  Mr.  Conant's 
efforts  to  get  an   education,   together   with   the 
assurance  that  more  should  be  forthcoming   if 


FRONTIER   FARMER.  63 

needed,  and  tlius  the  way  opened  at  once  to  his 
entrance  on  the  course  of  study." 

And  then  Dr.  Hosmer  also  writes  how  he  rec- 
ollects preacliing  m  Chicago,  —  the  introduction 
of  the  bright,  earnest  young  farmer,  the  interest- 
ing talk  they  had,  how  he  felt  that  here  was  one 
called  to  be  an  apostle,  and  said  so,  with  what 
result  I  have  already  related.  But  instead  of 
arguing  the  point  of  independence,  he  let  Mr. 
Conant  take  his  own  course  about  the  crops, 
went  home  and  told  his  story  to  one  who  never 
could  be  indifferent  to  any  noble  endeavor,  great- 
hearted Mr.  Huidekoper,  of  Meadville.  The  re- 
sponse was  the  letter  waiting  with  Dr.  Ware, 
and  others  to  follow  in  a  generous  succession. 
From  Miss  Shippen,  also,  and  Mrs.  Clarke,  and 
from  other  friends,  as  they  heard  of  the  luckless 
Vermont  bills,  there  came  ready  and  effectual 
help,  filling  the  heart  of  the  young  student  so 
full  of  joyful  and  grateful  surprise,  that,  whereas 
he  had  never  let  his  disappointment  rob  him  of 
an  hour's  sleep,  he  suddenly  found  that  now  he 
could  not  sleep  for  gladness,  but  lay  awake  all 
niglit  thinking  of  all  the  good  fortune  that  had 
befallen  him,  until  the  sun  rose,  and  it  was  time 
to  begin  his  morning  lessons 


64  FRONTIER    FARMER. 

From  the  "  Western  Messenger." 

Desplaine  River,  Cook  Co.,  III., 
Feb.  24,  1839. 

Dear  Brother  Clarke,  —  Please  accept  this 
cordial  salutation  of  a  lover  of  truth,  a  friend  of 
spiritual  freedom  and  rational  Christianity,  one 
among  the  hundreds  of  those  that  hail  the  "  Mes- 
senger "  as  the  bearer  of  glad  tidings,  diffusing 
the  light  of  truth,  the  blessings  of  spiritual  life, 
and  the  joys  of  rational  religion  wherever  it  cir- 
culates. The  intelligence  of  success  in  your 
arduous  labors  will  doubtless  afford  you  some 
satisfaction  and  encouragement.  And  I  there- 
fore not  only  feel  it  to  be  a  duty,  but  a  privilege, 
to  give  you  a  short  account  of  the  doings  of  the 
"  Messenger  "  here. 

The  first  time  I  ever  saw  the  "  Messenger  "  was 
in  June,  1837,  at  the  store  of  W.  H.  and  H.  F. 
Clarke,  in  Chicago.  The  name  of  Unitarian 
and  Deist,  or  Infidel,  were  at  that  time  very  near 
synonymous  with  me,  but  on  examination,  I 
discovered  something  so  liberal,  free-minded,  and 
rational  in  the  work  that,  notwithstanding  its 
bad  name,  I  subscribed  for  it  for  one  year,  and 
paid  for  one  volume  of  the  back  numbers.  The 
systems  of  orthodoxy,  in  which  I  was  instructed 


FRONTIER   PARMER.  65 

in  childhood,  I  rejected  soon  after  I  began  to 
think  for  myself  as  contrary  to  reason  and  the 
Bible,  and  repugnant  to  the  best  feelings  of  hu- 
manity. The  doctrine  of  ultra-Universalism  was 
too  gross  and  inconsistent  for  belief,  and  I  adopt- 
ed, as  the  most  rational  theory,  the  doctrine  of 
universal  restoration.  I  had  frequently  been  de- 
nounced as  a  heretic,  and  for  that  reason  had 
less  dread  of  bad  names.  I  resolved  fearlessly, 
though  carefully,  to  examine  the  subject,  and 
follow  Truth  whether  she  lead  through  good  or 
bad  report.  I  soon  became  convinced  that  the 
bad  name  properly  belonged  to  me,  most  of 
the  views  coinciding  exactly  with  my  own ; 
and  many  subjects,  which  were  before  dark  and 
mysterious,  were  rendered  perfectly  clear  and 
consistent.  My  father,  who  lives  near  me, 
seemed  to  feel  some  anxiety  lest  I  should  be  led 
into  worse  error.  He  had  been  tried  for  her- 
esy, by  an  ortliodox  council  in  Vermont,  because 
he  renounced  creeds  and  confessions  of  faith,  and 
adopted  some  of  the  sentiments  of  A.  Campbell,  of 
Virginia.  He  had  broken  the  shackles  of  sectari- 
anism, and  was  willing  to  read  and  examine.  I 
lent  him  the  "  Messenger  ;  "  he  has  examined,  and 


66  FRONTIER   FARMER. 

trutli  has  triumphed.  Though  he  has  not  yet 
ill  a  public  manner  avowed  himself  a  Unitarian, 
yet  in  conversation  with  friends  he  frequently 
and  fearlessly  advocates  the  doctrine.  Since  I 
embraced  the  sentiment,  I  have  been  furnished 
by  a  Unitarian  friend,  who  has  a  large  library, 
with  the  discourses  of  Channing  and  Ware,  and 
some  of  the  writings  of  Bernard  and  Jason  Whit- 
man, of  Gardner,  Priestly,  Dewey,  and  others, 
and  a  few  tracts  which  I  have  distributed  among 
those  who  are  inclined  to  read  and  examine. 

At  a  meeting  established  by  the  Methodists  in 
the  neighborhood,  I  have,  in  the  absence  of  the 
preachers,  read  several  of  Channing's  discourses, 
and  they  have  generally  been  well  received,  and 
in  some  instances  were  much  admired.  The 
preachers  seem  much  afraid  of  Unitarianism,  and 
say  many  things  against  it  containing  more  bit- 
terness than  truth.  I  have  lent  and  circulated 
the  "  Messenger  "  somewhat,  with  the  hope  of  add- 
ing to  your  list  of  subscribers  ;  but  I  do  not  know 
that  it  has  procured  any  new  ones  yet.  One  or 
two  individuals  have  said  they  would  like  to  sub- 
scribe for  it,  and  I  have  directed  them  to  your 
brothers  in  Chicago.     I  should  circulate  it  more, 


FRONTIER    FARMER.  67 

were  it  not  that  I  wish  to  preserve  the  volume 
for  binding.  What  few  tracts  I  have  are  not  idle. 
I  ride  around  occasionally  and  exchange  them,  so 
as  to  have  all  read  by  all^  and  I  feel  confident 
that  the  good  seed  will  not  be  lost.  If  no  more, 
it  will  do  something  to  remove  prejudice,  and 
counteract  the  influence  of  bad  report.  The 
spirit  of  the  time  is  far  in  advance  of  the  spirit  of 
orthodoxy.  The  liberal,  purifying,  elevating 
views  of  a  rational  Christianity  are  called  for 
from  every  quarter.  Am  I  mistaken  ?  Is  it  the 
dream  of  enthusiasm,  or  has  a  brighter  day 
dawned  upon  the  world  ?  The  effulgence  of 
truth  seems  to  glow  with  a  sublime  and  immor- 
tal lustre  ;  it  is  reflected  from  the  spirit  of  a 
Channing,  a  Whitman,  a  Brownson,  a  Dewey, 
an  Emerson,  a  Cranch,  and  a  long  list  of  kindred 
minds,  who  seem  to  be  looking  for  something 
more  spiritual,  pure,  and  elevated  than  has  ever 
yet  been  claimed  for  humanity.  The  rights  of 
the  soul,  freedom  of  opinion,  freedom  of  thought, 
and  freedom  of  investigation  are  asserted,  and 
the  cry  is  Onward  !  That  this  movement  will  not 
only  be  onward  but  upward  is  the  glad  hope  of 
many  who  are  watching  the  course  of  events 
with  tht'  most  intense  anxietv. 


58  FRONTIER    FARMER. 

I  fear  I  have  already  trespassed  too  much  on 
your  time  and  patience,  but  I  wish  to  communi- 
cate one  idea  which  I  do  not  recollect  to  have 
seen  published,  though  it  may  be  a  familiar  one 
to  you.  The  advocates  of  vicarious  sacrifice 
contend  that  the  doctrine  is  necessary  for  the  vin- 
dication of  the  divine  character.  God  (say  they) 
has  made  and  proclaimed  a  law,  and  guarded  it 
by  sufficient  penalties,  and  there  is  no  way  to 
maintain  the  honor  of  that  law,  but  by  the  in- 
fliction of  the  penalty,  either  on  the  transgressor 
or  a  substitute.  The  idea  which  I  would  present 
is  that  the  repentance  and  reformation  of  the 
transgressor  is  per  se  a  sufi&cient  vindication  of 
the  divine  character.  Man,  by  transgression,  has 
said  that  the  law  was  not  good  ;  but  by  repent- 
ance and  reformation,  he  acknowledges  his  er- 
ror. Can  the  infliction  of  the  penalty  in  such 
case  add  anything  to  the  honor  of  the  lawgiver  ? 
The  same  individual  who  said  the  law  was  not 
good,  when  he  becomes  enlightened,  declares  that 
it  is  good.  Can  he  do  anything  more,  or  will 
the  infliction  of  the  penalty  add  anything  to  the 
force  of  the  acknowledgment,  or  brighten  the 
evidence  of  the  goodness  and  justice  of  the  law- 


FRONTIER    FARMER.  69 

giver  before  the  rational  intelligence  of  the  uni- 
verse ? 

If  you  can  make  use  of  any  part  of  niy  letter, 
for  the  advancement  of  the  cause  of  liberal  Chris- 
tianity, you  are  perfectly  welcome  to  do  it. 
Though  a  private,  inexperienced,  and,  you  will 
perceive,  uneducated  individual,  my  name  and 
influence,  however  humble,  belong  to  the  cause 
of  truth  and  righteousness,  and  shall  gladly  be 
devoted  to  the  best  interests  of  men.  The  "  Mes- 
senger "  has  made  me  acquainted  with  some  of  the 
master  spirits  of  the  age ;  and  though  there  is  so 
great  a  disparity  of  intellect,  the  contact  of  mind 
has  awakened  sympathies  which  lead  onward  to 
the  same  noble  purpose  of  action.  I  feel  an  in- 
terest in  the  cause  for  which  they  act,  and  would 
rejoice  to  do  something  for  its  advancement. 
May  the  blessings  of  Him  who  guides  the  desti- 
nies of  the  moral  universe  rest  on  their  labor, 
and  may  you  have  the  happiness  to  see  the  cause 
of  truth  triumph  in  every  quarter,  and  your  la- 
bors blessed  abundantly. 

Yours,  in  Christian  love  and  fellowship, 

A.  H.  C. 


IV. 


STUDENT. 

"  1840,  June  25.  Commenced  study  under  the 
direction  of  Prof.  Henry  Ware,  Jr.,  and  took 
room  No.  40,  Divinity  Hall.  Attended  Ware's 
evening  discussion. 

''''July  4.  Attended  the  celebration  in  Boston, 
and  visited  Bunker  Hill. 

'-'' Sunday ^  Aug,  9.  United  with  Mr.  Gray's 
church  in  Bulfinch  Street. 

''^Dec.  7.  Received  for  sawing  wood  three 
dollars. 

''  1841,  May  19.  Read  a  report  before  the 
Philanthropic  Society  of  the  Divinity  School  on 
Western  Missions. 

'-''June  8.  Was  approved  by  the  Cambridge 
Association  as  a  minister  of  the  gospel. 

"'June  27.  Received  ordination  as  an  evangel- 
ist in  Boston. 

"  From    H.    J.   Huidekoper    fifty    dollars   to 


STUDENT.  61 

purchase  books,   and   from   the   Divinity  School 
the  works  of  Dugald  Stewart. 

'-^Jime  29.     Left  Cambridge. 

'-July  23.    Reached  Chicago." 

This  is  the  entire  journal  of  the  year  at  Cam- 
bridge as  a  student.  Other  notices  of  the  time 
are  not  numerous,  for  a  great  body  of  closely- 
written  notes  of  lectures  and  other  college  work 
of  that  sort,  still  remaining,  must  have  taken 
up  whatever  time  he  had  to  spare  ;  after  the 
direct  book-work  for  the  day  was  done.  In- 
deed, this  appears  from  the  few  letters  that  still 
exist  of  this  year.  Informing  his  wife,  to  whom 
of  course  the  first  is  written,  that  he  had  procured 
paper  of  the  very  largest  size,  so  that  he  might 
be  able  to  write  a  great  deal  for  one  postage,  he 
writes  his  letter  over  and  across,  close  and  com- 
pacted, in  about  a  week  from  the  time  he  begins 
with  "  Dearest,"  telling  here  and  there,  as  he 
goes  on,  how  tired  he  is  to-night,  or  how  late  it 
is ;  but  then  how  writing  a  bit  more  will  refresh 
him  better  than  his  sleep. 

It  is  evident  that  the  year  altogether  was  one 
of  the  very  pleasantest  in  his  whole  life.    It  intro- 


62  STUDENT. 

duced  the  young  farmer  to  a  new  world.  Cam- 
bridge, always  the  central  point  of  vitality  in  the 
brain  of  the  country,  was  then,  with  the  society 
that  surrounded  it,  the  glass  of  its  good-breeding, 
because  good  manners  in  the  best  sense  are  al- 
ways nearest  of  kin  to  the  good  man.  And  Presi- 
dent Quincy,  Henry  Ware,  and  others  like  them, 
were  then  among  the  great  men  who  noticed, 
welcomed,  assisted,  and  opened  their  homes  to 
him.  Indeed,  it  is  clear  that  the  difference  be- 
tween the  ease  and  urbanity  he  noticed  in  the  so- 
ciety lie  had  entered,  and  what  seemed  so  rustic 
and  awkward  in  himself,  came  at  last  to  oppress 
him.  He  speaks  almost  pathetically  of  the  strug- 
gle he  has  to  save  himself  from  making  bad  blun- 
ders. I  get  the  impression  that  he  must  have  felt 
so  constrained  and  awkward  that  the  native  dig- 
nity of  Vermont  and  Illinois  had  but  a  very  poor 
chance  to  show  itself,  and  I  heartily  wish  that 
some  wise  man  could  have  guessed  his  secret, 
and  then  had  the  grace  to  say  to  him,  "  Young 
man,  be  yourself.  You  have  in  your  own  instinct 
to  be  a  gentleman  that  which  will  do  more  for 
you  than  trying  to  copy  what  you  see  in  others. 
Good-breeding  is  not  to  be  learned  from  '  The 


STUDENT.  63 

Whole  Art  of  Politeness,'  and  is  not  being  like 
another  well-bred  man ;  but  it  is  in  the  simple 
and  sincere  manliness  you  brought  with  you 
from  the  prairie,  and  the  courtesy  you  always 
observed,  without  trying,  toward  your  wife." 

But  in  otlier  ways,  the  society  about  him  was 
full  of  power  to  help  him.  He  rushed  to  hear 
tlie  great  preachers  of  the  era  ;  and  tells  how 
"  To-day  I  heard  Mr.  Putman  ;  he  preached  one 
of  the  very  best  sermons  I  ever  heard  in  my 
life."  Then  again,  "  I  have  been  to  hear  Dr. 
Beechei- ;  there  must  have  been  a  thousand  peo- 
ple present.  I  could  agree  heartily  with  the  most 
of  what  he  said ;  he  is  rather  a  hard-featured 
old  fellow,  *  awful  powerful,'  as  the  Hoosiers  say, 
and  I  thought  if  his  pulpit  cushions  are  not  well 
stuffed,  I  should  not  like  to  lend  him  my  fists  to 
preach  with."  And  then  again, ''  I  have  attended 
Mr.  Gannett's  Lectures  on  the  Doctrines.  I  sup- 
pose, taken  altogether,  they  are  the  best  things 
of  the  sort  ever  delivered  on  our  side.  They 
have  created  a  wonderful  excitement  in  Boston. 
The  orthodox  are  thoroughly  aroused  by  them, 
have  got  out  their  old  creed  in  its  most  hideous 
form,  and  are  trying  to  make  the  people  swallow 


64  STUDENT. 

it ;  but  they  might  as  well  try  to  make  any  man 
who  has  had  the  good  fortune  to  hear  these  lec- 
tures swallow  a  chestnut  burr.  The  lecturer  has 
only  a  few  notes,  to  which  he  will  refer  now  and 
then  ;  but  the  lectures  are  given  otherwise  ex- 
tempore^ whilst  the  speaker  is  pacing  up  and 
down  the  platform,  and  the  hearers  are  all  on 
fire  with  his  eloquence.  Each  lecture  occupies 
about  two  hours  in  the  delivery." 

And  then  he  would  not  be  a  mere  listener,  but 
together  with  a  fellow-student  (Mr.  Osgood),  with 
whom  he  became  very  intimate,  went  to  the  House 
of  Correction  and  prayed  and  labored  with  the 
inmates,  whenever  there  was  opportunity  ;  pre- 
pared and  read  his  address  on  Western  Missions ; 
gave  addresses  on  Temperance  here  and  there, 
and  got  some  chances  to  preach  beside  in  the 
churches. 

Still  another  way  opened  to  him.  One  day, 
soon  after  his  commencement  at  Cambridge,  a 
fellow-student  carried  him  off  to  see  a  lady  he  was 
in  the  habit  of  visiting  once  a  week,  at  least,  for 
his  own  sake  and  for  hers.  She  had  been  confined 
to  her  bed  nine  years  ;  had  no  father,  mother,  or 
kinsman   living ;    was   entirely  dependent  on   a 


STUDENT.  65 

goodness  that  bad  never  failed  in  those  about 
ber,  but  was  so  brigbt,  cheerful,  and  well-in- 
formed as  to  the  newest  and  freshest  things  in 
literature  and  life,  kept  up  so  wide  a  corre- 
spondence, and  was  altogether  of  so  fine  a  nature, 
that  it  was  a  wonder  to  see  and  hear  her. 
''  There  was  no  '  pious  resignation,'  or  submis- 
sion about  her,"  the  young  student  says ;  "  she 
does  not  seem  aware  that  there  is  room  for  such 
things  in  a  life  so  blessed  as  hers  has  been. 
From  where  she  is  laid,  she  can  see  the  trees  and 
spires,  and  when  she  is  not  working  at  some 
small  present  for  the  friends  who  have  been  so 
good  to  her,  she  is  reading,  writing,  or  watching 
the  world.  The  first  two  years,  she  says,  were 
much  longer  than  the  whole  seven  that  have 
come  after;  now  she  is  as  happy  as  the  day  is 
long." 

The  friend  who  carried  Mr.  Conant  to  this 
secluded  "  Salem  "  was  about  leaving  Cambridge, 
and  asked  him  to  take  his  place.  It  was  a  most 
welcome  request,  and  he  gladly  promised  to  go, 
with  his  shred  of  choice  reading  and  ripple  of 
pleasant  talk,  once  a  week,  at  least,  to  Miss  Her- 
sey's  chamber.     With  how  much  blessing  to  him- 


66  STUDENT. 

self  only  those  who,  like  the  writer  of  this  me- 
moir, have  just  such  a  privilege  included  in  their 
round  of  pastoral  or  other  duties  can  guess. 

In  the  home  of  Miss  Sarah  Clarke,  then  planted 
near  by,  Mr.  Conant  was,  also,  always  welcome, 
and  he  touches,  here  and  there,  in  his  letters,  on 
bright  minutes  he  had  been  spending  looking  at 
the  pictures  or  talking  ;  and  here  and  there,  we 
have  hints  how  the  simple  observation  of  the 
good  manners  and  grace  there  seemed  to  undo 
some  awkward  twist  in  himself,  and  make  him 
feel  wholly  at  ease  and  quiet.  And  all  this,  with 
rambles  in  the  company  of  Student  Osgood,  and 
long  talks  of  what  they  meant  to  do  when  once 
they  were  fairly  launched  on  the  great  enter- 
prise for  which  they  were  preparing,  with 
glimpses  at  the  sights  of  Boston,  —  among  which 
sights  were  the  steamer  ''  Britannia,"  the  first 
that  ever  crossed  the  Atlantic,  and  the  great 
Whig  procession,  when  a  shoe  came  from  Lynn 
with  seventeen  men  in  it,  —  this  is  what  one 
gathers  by  glances  along  the  student  year. 

Of  the  studies  themselves,  he  writes  one  thing 
well  worth  reading.  In  a  letter  to  Mrs.  Co- 
nant,  dated   Nov.  10,  1840,   he  says,   "  I  have 


STUDENT.  67 

commenced  the  study  of  Greek.  Do  not  be 
frightened ;  I  shall  not  stay  here  any  longer 
on  that  account.  I  only  intend  to  lay  a  sort  of 
foundation  on  which  I  may  build  hereafter.  I 
do  not  mean  to  let  it  hinder  any  other  study, 
and  only  take  it  as  a  change  to  rest  my  mind. 
My  fellow- students  assist  me  in  it,  and  the  op- 
portunity is  one  I  shall  never  have  again  ;  and 
as  it  is  generally  thought  to  be  of  so  much  im- 
portance for  a  minister  to  be  able  to  read  the 
New  Testament  in  the  original,  perhaps  I  shall 
not  regret  the  pains  taken  to  learn  it.  Still,  I 
have  always  been  opposed  to  the  study  of  these 
languages  as  a  general  thing.  It  is  well  for  a 
few,  who  have  the  time  to  spare,  to  become 
thoroughly  master  of  them,  but  to  make  the  dead 
language  an  essential  part  of  a  general  education, 
I  have  always  considered  to  be  a  piece  of  folly 
and  a  waste  of  time.  And  were  it  not  for  the 
general  opinion  and  prejudice  of  society,  per- 
haps I  should  not  have  commenced  the  study 
at  all ;  as  it  is,  I  shall  keep  it,  like  a  dog  under 
the  table,  to  pick  up  the  crumbs  of  time  that 
might  otherwise  be  lost." 

It   was    heresy  then  to  say  this,  but   it   was 


68  STUDENT. 

prophecy,  too,  as  is  most  heresy,  and  men  of  no 
mean  repute  are  now  repeating  what  was  said  so 
well  twenty-five  years  ago  by  this  farmer  from 
the  West.  But  it  was  hard  work  all  through. 
"  If  Professor  Ware  did  not  encourage  me  to  be- 
lieve that  I  am  doing  very  well,"  he  writes,  "I 
should  be  ready  to  give  up  in  despair.  It  is  so 
hard  to  teach  an  old  dog  new  tricks."  But,  as 
we  have  seen  by  the  journal,  the  year  came  to  an 
end  at  last.  The  masters  were  satisfied  and  the 
longing  of  his  soul  was  fulfilled  in  his  ordination 
to  the  work  of  an  evangelist. 

Cambridge,  Sept.  28, 1840. 

Mr.  Scotto  Clarke, — 

Dear  Sir :  Judging  from  the  kind  sympathy 
which  you  have  manifested  toward  me,  and  the 
interest  you  have  appeared  to  feel  in  the  cause 
in  which  I  am  engaged,  I  suppose  that  a  line 
from  me  at  any  convenient  opportunity  will  not 
be  wholly  unacceptable.  Your  favor  by  Mr. 
Wilson  was  duly  received,  and  I  was  very  happy 
to  hear  that  you  had  gained  your  health.  I  have 
seen  Mr.  J.  F.  Clarke  since  his  return  to  Boston, 
and  am  very  glad  to  hear  of  your  religious  pros- 


STUDENT.  69 

perity,  both  in  Geneva  and  in  Chicago.  It  gives 
me  the  greatest  pleasure  to  hear  of  the  successful 
labors  of  others,  in  advancing  the  cause  of  ration- 
al religion,  though  I  cannot  yet  lend  the  helping 
hand  which  I  hope  soon  to  be  able  to  extend. 
My  present  prospects  are  very  favorable,  and  I 
have  little  doubt  but  that  I  shall  be  able  to  re- 
main a  year.  Mr.  Ware  speaks  very  favorably  of 
my  improvement,  else  I  should  be  almost  discour- 
aged. I  fear  I  shall  not  be  able  to  meet  the  ex- 
pectations which  my  kind  friends  and  benefactors 
have  formed  of  my  ability  for  usefulness  ;  but 
as  I  have  enlisted,  I  have  only  to  press  on  and 
do  the  best  I  can.  I  feel  a  deep  interest  in  the 
work,  and  if  I  can  do  anything  effectual,  I  shall 
feel  that  I  have  not  lived  in  vain.  I  am  engaged 
as  teacher  in  two  Sunday-schools,  where  I  wish 
to  be  a  learner  as  well  as  teacher.  I  expect  to 
visit  my  wife  and  friends  in  Vermont  next  month, 
and  shall  endeavor  to  say  a  few  words  to  the  peo- 
ple of  my  native  town  and  vicinity  on  the  sub- 
ject of  rational  religion,  as  they  have  expressed 
a  wish  to  have  me  preach  to  them  while  there. 
Mr.  Harrington  was  ordained  last  evening  at  Fed- 
eral Street  Church,  sermon  by  Mr.  Putnam,  ordain- 


70  STUDENT. 

ing  prayer  by  Dr.  Ware  ;  but  of  these  things  Mr. 
Patten  will  inform  you.  I  regret  that  I  have  not 
seen  him  yet,  and  I  fear  I  shall  not  see  him  be- 
fore he  returns.  Mr.  Wilson  is  to  hand  him  this 
letter.  Give  my  best  respects  to  your  much  es- 
teemed family,  to  Mr.  Buckingham,  Esquire  Mil- 
ler, and  all  interested ;  also  express  my  sorrow 
for  Mr.  Buckingham's  unfortunate  sickness  since 
his  return,  and  believe  me  ever,  sincerely  yours, 

Augustus  H.  Con  ant. 

(To  his  Wife.) 

Cambridge,  March  29, 1841. 

Dearest :  I  have  this  afternoon  received  your 
kind  letter,  for  which  I  have  been  watching  the 
post-office  more  than  a  week.  Perhaps  I  ought 
not  to  leave  my  study  to  write  immediately,  but 
I  can  hardly  deny  myself  the  privilege,  after 
waiting  so  long.  Though  I  have  much  to  do,  I 
cannot  help  thinking  of  you  a  great  deal.  I  see 
nothing  new  or  delightful  without  thinking  in 
stantly  how  glad  I  should  be  to  have  you  present 
to  share  my  happiness.  When  I  walk  out  early 
in  the  morning,  and  climb  the  hills  and  look 
abroad  over  the  beautiful  scenery,  and  see  the 
first  rays  of  the  rising  sun  reflected   from  the 


STUDENT.  71 

glittering  spires,  that  may  be  seen  in  every  direc- 
tion, pointing  to  heaven,  I  think  of  the  delight 
you  would  feel  to  stand  by  me  and  survey  the 
glorious  scene  ;  and  while  the  heart  is  so  full  of 
gratitude,  and  its  offering  of  praise  is  ascending 
to  Him  who  made  all  that  is  bright  and  beautiful, 
a  prayer  for  the  loved  ones  far  away  mingles 
with  the  morning  songs,  and  a  feeling  of  humble 
trust  comes  over  the  soul  in  connection  with  the 
thought  that  the  same  hand  that  unseals  the  eye- 
lids of  the  morning  on  the  Atlantic  shores  lifts 
its  fair  light  upon  the  distant  prairies  of  the 
West.  The  same  kind  Father  that  supplies  my 
wants  and  guards  my  life  watches  over  those 
who  are  dearest  to  my  heart,  and  they  are  safe 
with  him.  It  is  a  joyful  service  to  worship  God 
and  offer  to  him  the  gratitude  of  a  devout  heart 
in  his  own  fair  temple  when  the  breath  of  the 
morning  arises,  and  from  the  flowers  of  spring 
the  song  of  birds  like  choral  symphonies  from 
every  valley  and  hill.  It  is  not  that  nature  is 
not  beautiful,  or  that  God  is  not  good  that  we  do 
not  at  all  times  delight  in  worship.  It  is  because 
low  aims  and  desires,  unholy  passions,  selfishness, 
and  sin   darken  the  mind  and    hinder  the  holy 


72  STUDENT. 

communion  of  the  soul  with  truth  and  virtue. 
Oh  if  we  could  always  keep  our  hearts  pure, 
then  would  the  light  of  a  holy  and  heavenly  joy 
ever  fill  our  souls  !  "  Blessed  are  the  pure  in 
heart,  for  they  shall  see  God."  Let  us  strive  to 
become  pure  in  heart,  to  make  ourselves  what  we 
profess  to  be  ;  and  we  shall  then  best  secure 
the  enjoyments  which  life  can  afford.  If  we  can 
strengthen  each  other  in  spiritual  things,  then 
truly  our  union  will  be  a  happy  one. 

Tuesday  Eveniiig,  SOth.  I  have  just  re- 
turned from  a  pleasant  walk  with  my  friend, 
Mr.  Osgood,  and  were  it  not  that  my  heart  is 
with  you,  I  suppose  I  should  spend  the  evening 
with  him  or  some  other  of  my  fellow-students. 
But  in  the  midst  of  pleasant  society,  which  I  can 
enjoy  but  a  few  months  more,  I  still  think  of  you 
as  my  dearest  earthly  friend,  and  look  anxiously 
forward  to  the  time  when  you  will  share  my 
walks  and  visit  these  scenes  which  are  so  familiar 
to  me,  and  which  are  fixing  a  strong  hold  in  my 
affections.  Not  that  I  am  likely  to  become  so 
much  attached  to  Cambridge  as  to  forget  our 
Western  home ;  but  it  is  a  delightful  place,  and  I 
find  so  many  kind  friends  that  I  look  forward  to 


STUDENT.  73 

the  time  of  leaving  with  pain  as  well  as  pleasure. 
Tlie  agreeable  associations  which  I  have  already 
formed  cannot  be  broken  off  without  regret ;  yet 
when  I  look  westward,  I  long  to  return  to  my 
friends  and  the  scenes  of  my  labor,  the  field  of 
my  future  toil  and  I  hope  usefulness.  If  I  could 
have  you  and  our  little  ones,  and  father  and 
mother  here,  I  sliould  not  want  to  leave  my  studies 
under  two  or  three  years.  But  I  feel  that  in  the 
present  situation  I  should  not  be  justified  in  re- 
maining longer  than  the  close  of  the  present  year. 
I  have  received  a  letter  from  Mr.  Hosmer  since 
my  return,  inquiring  about  my  success,  whether 
I  wished  to  stay  longer,  etc.  He  expects  to  visit 
here  in  May  or  June  to  get  the  "  pores  of  his 
spirit  filled,"  as  he  says,  "  and  see  once  more  his 
native  hills."  I  have  to-day  seen  Mr.  Nightingale, 
who,  you  will  remember,  preached  in  Chicago. 
Mr.  Stone,  who  has  been  preaching  in  Wisconsin, 
is  also  in  Cambridge.  I  am  glad  to  learn  that 
you  find  some  time  to  study ;  I  wish  you  could 
have  more,  and  more  books  also,  but  perhaps  you 
have  as  many  books  as  you  can  get  along  with. 
I  feel  sorry  for  those  who  are  so  much  afraid  of 
Unitarianism  ;  they  must  feel  so  bad  to  witness  its 


74  STUDENT. 

spread ;  but  it  will  not  do  to  shut  up  the  truth 
and  hide  the  light  because  people  are  afraid  of  it, 
and  would  rather  remain  in  error  than  be  con- 
vinced contrary  to  their  old  prejudices.  Wliile  I 
was  in  Vermont,  I  became  more  tlian  ever  con- 
vinced that  Unitarianism  was  findhig  its  way 
into  the  orthodox  churches  without  their  know- 
ing it.  There  are  so  many  cracks  througli  the  old 
walls  of  sectarianism  that  the  light  will  shine  in, 
and  though  some  will  choose  to  remain  within  as 
long  as  possible,  and  endeavor  to  stop  the  cracks 
with  untempered  mortar,  it  will  not  answer  a 
great  while.  Calvinism  has  had  its  day,  it  was 
good  in  its  place,  but  it  belongs  to  a  darker  age, 
and  cannot  last  forever.  It  is  fast  crumbling 
away,  and  will  soon  be  reckoned  among  the  errors 
of  the  past,  the  things  that  were^  but  are  not. 
The  hope  that  we  may  do  something  to  spread 
the  light  of  a  purer  and  more  rational  and  liberal 
faith,  is  sufficient  to  cheer  us  onward,  and  sustain 
us  under  the  few  trials  we  are  called  to  endure. 
We  know  not  how  much  we  may  accomplish  if  we 
are  faithful,  sincere,  and  true  to  our  trust.  If 
we  improve  the  talents  committed  to  us,  they  will 
be  doubled,  and  our  reward  will  be  in  proportion 


STUDENT.  75 

to  our  faithfulness.  How  trifling  will  all  the  sac- 
rifices which  we  make  for  religion  appear  to  us 
when  this  world  is  fading  from  our  view. 

How  rich  and  glorious  the  reward  of  all  our 
toils  for  truth  and  holiness  !  "  Soon,"  as  you  say, 
"the  places  that  now  know  us  will  know  us  no 
more  forever."  But  not  one  good  desire  or  holy 
purpose  of  our  life  will  be  forgotten  by  our 
heavenly  Father.  The  sincere  endeavor,  how- 
ever feeble,  will  meet  his  approval,  and  the  most 
trifling  service,  performed  through  a  sense  of 
duty  to  him,  will  receive  his  merciful  acceptance. 
A  cup  of  cold  water,  given  as  a  manifestation  of 
love  to  Christ's  followers,  will  in  no  wise  lose  its 
reward.  Let  us,  then,  not  complain  of  our  sac- 
rifices for  the  cause  in  which  we  are  engaged. 
What  are  they  to  the  sufferings  of  the  martyrs 
of  old  ?  We  love  each  other,  but  this  very  affec- 
tion is  the  gift  of  our  Father  in  heaven  ;  we  love 
our  children,  but  they,  too,  are  his  gifts,  and  so 
are  all  the  joys  of  life.  Read  the  little  tract  I 
sent  you  of  the  slave  mother,  and  contrast  her 
lot  with  what  you  enjoy,  and  perhaps  you  will  be 
ready  to  inquire,  What  shall  I  render  to  the  Lord 
for  all  his  benefits  ?     Truly  we   have   cause   of 


76  STUDENT. 

thankfulness,  and  when  I  think  of  my  own  sin- 
fulness and  neglect  of  duty,  how  little  of  true 
devotion  and  sincerity  of  soul  I  possess,  in  con- 
trast with  what  I  enjoy,  I  am  filled  with  aston- 
ishment. Goodness  and  mercy  have  followed  me 
all  my  days,  and  my  un worthiness  has  not  pre- 
vented the  constant  succession  of  favors.  How 
illy  have  I  deserved  to  occupy  the  high  and  holy 
station  which  I  fill !  I  tremble  to  think  of  it,  and 
can  only  trust  that  goodness,  which  has  raised 
me  up,  to  keep  me  from  falling.  Father,  save  me 
from  pride,  from  ambition,  from  self-seeking  and 
hypocrisy,  and  make  me  worthy  of  the  station  I 
fill. 

Wednesday  Moming-,  Slst.  1  have  a  moment 
which  I  usually  devote  to  religious  reading,  which 
I  will  steal  for  you.  It  is  a  beautiful  morning, 
and  tlie  old  wish  that  you  were  here  to  enjoy  it 
with  me  comes  home  again  to  my  heart.  But  I 
doubt  not  you  are  enjoying  it  as  well  as  myself. 
Perhaps  while  I  am  writing,  you  are  preparing 
to  visit  the  "  Sugar  Bush  "  and  get  a  drink  of 
sugar  water,  or  pluck  the  first  flowers  of  spring. 
Little  John  calls  for  his  cap,  and  capers  about 
with   high  glee.     Hurrah,  for  a  walk    with   his 


STUDENT.  77 

mamma  !  And  how  he  laughs  and  jumps  and 
chatters  and  points  at  everything  that  pleases  him  ! 
Do  not  spoil  him  with  indulgence,  or  neglect  him 
because  you  are  busy  ;  watch  the  first  unfolding 
of  his  mind  more  closely  than  you  would  the 
opening  rosebud.  It  is  a  germ  of  immortality, 
shelter  it  from  the  chilling  blasts  of  hatred  and 
selfishness,  and  let  the  mild  atmosphere  of  mater- 
nal affection  infuse  a  pure  and  generous  life  into 
every  holy  principle  of  truth  and  purity  and  love 
that  lies  concealed  in  the  expanding  soul  ;  let 
him  not  be  poisoned  with  flattery,  or  roused  by 
either  excessive  fondness  or  excessive  severity. 
Of  the  latter,  however,  there  is  little  danger. 
There  is  danger  of  governing  too  much,  but  it  is 
less  common  than  governing  too  little.  Never 
think  you  have  little  to  do  while  you  have  the 
training  of  an  immortal  spirit.  May  God  give 
us  wisdom  equal  to  our  trust. 

Thursday  Morning,  April  1.  How  swiftly  time 
flies  !  It  is  already  the  first  of  April.  One  fourth 
of  the  term  is  already  gone,  and  I  feel  as  if  I  had 
scarcely  done  anything  yet.  I  must  be  more 
diligent.  Last  evening  I  listened  to  a  report  on 
Temperance,  before  the  Philanthropic  Society  of 


78  STUDENT. 

the  Divinity  School.  The  report  was  followed  by 
several  resolutions,  which  called  forth  an  animat- 
ed discussion  on  the  wine  question.  There  were 
several  who  plead  for  the  use  of  wine,  hut  their 
arguments  were  flimsy  enough.  It  was  some- 
time before  I  could  get  an  opportunity  to  speak, 
and  I  became  so  much  excited,  that  when  the 
opportunity  offered,  I  poured  forth  my  senti- 
ments with  an  earnestness  wiiich  I  have  never 
before  manifested  in  this  place.  They  must  have 
thought  that  the  Western  spirit  was  up.  I  believe, 
however,  that  I  did  not  say  anything  which,  in 
my  sober  moments,  I  could  not  approve.  I  forgot 
everything  but  my  subject,  and  perhaps  spoke 
rather  too  loud  some  of  the  time  ;  on  the  whole, 
i  think  that  the  winebibbers  felt  that  they  had 
the  worst  side  to  defend,  and  will  probably  here- 
after take  rather  a  different  view  of  it.  Dr. 
Ware  is  thorough-going  in  the  cause,  and  related 
some  anecdotes  to  show  the  evils  of  wine-drink- 
ing in  Europe  when  he  was  there.  I  am  very 
glad  that  you  have  quit  tea-drinking.  •  When  we 
return  to  the  West,  we  will  set  an  example  of  cold- 
water  principles,  which  will  be  consistent  and 
worthy  of  imitation. 


STUDENT.  79 

As  I  was  passing  along  Washington  Street,  Bos- 
ton, the  other  evening,  I  saw  a  large  collection  of 
human  skulls  placed  before  a  window,  samples  of 
almost  every  race  of  the  family  of  man.  It  was  the 
den  of  a  phrenologist.  Besides  all  the  real  skulls, 
there  were  casts  in  plaster  of  heads  of  all  kinds, 
and  certificates  from  many  learned  men  of  the 
wonderful  wisdom  and  skill  of  the  gentleman 
who  offered  his  services  to  the  gentlemen  and 
ladies  of  Boston  in  the  line  of  his  profession  for 
fifty  cents  a  head.  Phrenological  books  and 
charts  for  sale,  etc.  Well,  I  ventured  in  to  see 
what  was  going  on.  There  was  just  beyond  a 
curtain,  that  was  partially  drawn  aside,  a  gentle- 
man and  lady,  and  near  them  the  phrenologist 
himself^  examining  the  head  of  a  little  girl.  He 
soon  finished  his  description  of  her  mental  de- 
velopment, and  then  the  gentleman  came  forward 
and  took  his  seat  to  have  the  wonderful  propen- 
sities and  powers  of  his  physical,  intellectual,  and 
moral  being  disclosed.  I  called  for  a  book  and 
looked  at  it,  listened,  and  peeped  over  it  occasion- 
ally, to  see  what  was  going  on.  The  chart  of  his 
cranium  was  soon  made  out,  and  then  for  the 
lady.     But  perhaps  he  would  not  like    to  have 


80  STUDENT. 

strangers  present  when  the  secret  propensities  of 
her  refined  nature  were  unfolded,  "  Sir,"  says 
the  phrenologist,  turning  to  me,  "  do  you  wish 
to  have  your  head  examined  ?  "  as  much  as  to 
say,  "  If  you  do  not,  you  must  leave  the  room,  so 
as  not  to  frighten  the  lady."  I  hesitated  a  mo- 
ment, and  then  answered  in  the  affirmative. 
"And  now,"  said  I,  taking  my  seat,  "no  flattery  ; 
let  out  the  whole  secret,  tell  the  worst." 

"'Philoprogenitiveness  enormous;  you  will  be 
likely  to  ruin  your  children,  a  high  sense  of  honor, 
combativeness  large,  will  be  likely  to  knock  down 
a  man  if  he  treads  on  your  toes.  Benevolence 
full,  will  pick  him  up  and  ask  his  pardon  the  next 
minute ;  a  great  reasoner,  considerable  mechan- 
ical skill,  independent  in  opinion,  fond  of  having 
your  own  way,  great  decision  of  character,  and 
firmness  of  purpose.  The  highest  regard  for 
truth,  parsimonious  and  saving,  unalterable  af- 
fection, enduring  all  things  for  love,  but  not  like- 
ly to  make  a  fool  of  yourself  on  account  of  the 
girls  ;  little  solicitude  about  religious  matters, 
small  degree  of  faith,  want  of  credulity,  keen 
perception  of  the  beautiful,  correct  power  of  ana- 
lyzing and  criticising,  without  mucli  deception, 
and  not  very  witty,"  etc. 


STUDENT.  81 

"  Strange,  what  a  character  !  So  fond  of  chil- 
dren! Ha,  ha!"  said  I,  ''don't  think  I  am  more 
fond  of  my  children  than  other  men.  True,  I 
think  a  great  deal  of  my  wife,  but  never  thouglit 
that  I  should  spoil  my  children  by  indulgence  ; 
hardly  love  them  enough." 

"Perhaps  'it  is  manifested  in  fondness  for 
domestic  animnls,  —  dogs  or  horses.  Not  at  all  ? 
Well,  it  is  there,  at  any  rate."  So  you  must 
watch  that  I  do  not  spoil  the  children  when  I  re- 
turn. 

I  am  expecting  a  letter  from  Illinois  soon, 
and  when  I  write  again,  I  shall  be  able  to  give 
you  some  news  from  there.  My  health  is  good, 
and  all  goes  on  pleasantly.  Mr.  Ware  ex- 
pressed an  ardent  wish  to  see  you,  in  Cam- 
bridge, which  I  hope  will  be  gratified.  I  think 
it  will  be  of  more  advantage  to  you  than  it 
would  to  walk  on  a  Turkey  carpet^  or  glitter 
in  diamonds  the  rest  of  your  life.  The  improve- 
ment of  the  mind  is  of  more  consequence  than 
outward  display,  and  the  opportunity  which  a 
few  weeks  in  this  vicinity  will  afford  will  repay 
the  expense  of  the  journey  witli  a  liberal  interest. 
I  hope  you  will  write  immediately,  when  you  re- 
6 


82  STUDENT. 

ceive  this,  as  practice  makes  perfect  in  every- 
thing. It  affords  me  a  double  satisfaction  to  find 
that  you  are  doing  so  much  for  the  cultivation  of 
your  own  powers,  while  you  are  making  me  hap- 
py by  the  account  of  what  you  are  doing,  how 
you  enjoy  yourself,  etc.  Give  my  love  to  all, 
without  thinking  that  you  can  rob  yourself. 
Your  ever  affectionate  husband, 

Augustus  H.  Conant. 

Cambridge,  June  7, 1841. 

Dear  Sister,  —  I  have  been  thinking  that  I 
should  like  in  some  way  to  give  expression  to  a 
brother's  love  otlier  than  in  words,  and  leave  you 
something  for  a  remembrance,  though  it  would 
be  but  a  trifle.  I  know  of  scarcely  anytliing 
which  I  think  more  valuable  than  a  well-selected 
family  library ;  and  though  my  opportunity  for 
reading  has  not  been  very  great,  I  might  be  able 
to  select  a  few  books  which  would  be  valuable, 
both  to  you  and  your  children,  and  a  few  books 
well  read  are  always  better  than  a  great  amount 
of  trash.  If,  therefore,  you  will  trust  me  to  se- 
lect for  you,  I  will  make  you  welcome  to  my 
service,  and  to  what  is  due  me  from  Harris,  pro- 


STUDENT.  83 

vided  he  can  get  the  money,  and  send  it  to  me  in 
season  to  purchase  the  books  before  I  leave  here. 
The  note  amounts  to  twenty-seven  dollars  and 
sixty-eight  cents  ;  and  if  he  is  disposed  to  add  a 
few  dollars  so  as  to  make  up  thirty  dollars  or 
more,  I  should  have  no  objection.  I  expect  my 
wife  will  start  for  Cambridge  the  18th  or  21st, 
and  if  you  can  send  the  money  by  her,  it  will  be 
the  best  way ;  but  if  you  should  fail  of  it,  you  may 
send  it  by  mail,  but  not  after  the  21th,  as  it  would 
be  too  late  for  me  to  attend  to  it.  I  need  not  say 
that  if  anything  is  done,  it  must  be  done  quickly. 
My  time  is  very  much  occupied  ;  I  frequently  do 
not  get  more  than  four  hours'  sleep  out  of  the 
twenty-four.  I  have  a  vast  deal  to  do  here,  and 
but  a  short  time  to  do  it.  Yesterday,  I  gave  a 
Sunday-school  address  at  Cambridgeport,  heard 
two  sermons,  preached  once  myself  at  South  Bos- 
ton, and  attended  church  meeting  in  the  evening  ; 
and  I  say  to  you,  what  I  should  not  like  to  say 
to  others,  that  I  have  very  good  success  in  extern' 
pore  speaking,  and  receive  many  expressions  of 
commendation  and  encouragement  from  those 
in  whom  i  have  the  greatest  confidence.  God 
has  blessed   me  in    everything ;    my   hopes    are 


84  STUDENT. 

high.  Pray  for  me,  sister,  that  I  may  be  humble, 
true,  and  devout ;  that  I  may  rise  above  selfish- 
ness and  vain  ambition,  and  seek  to  be  myself 
the  example  of  what  I  preach. 

My  love  to  you,  and  all  that  are  dear  to  you. 
In  haste,  your  brother, 

Augustus  H.  Conant. 


V. 

SECULAR     BUT    SACRED. 

The  missionary  efforts  of  the  faith  which  Mr. 
Conant  was  now  ordained  to  preach  in  the  West 
began  in  1826  with  the  formation  of  the  Ameri- 
can Unitarian  Association. 

In  April  of  that  year,  a  man  was  sent  West 
from  this  society,  apparently  to  spy  out  the  land, 
and  then  come  back  and  report.  Starting  from 
Boston,  he  went  by  the  way  of  Philadelphia  to 
Harrisburg,  where  he  found  a  society  resolved 
on  building  a  church ;  thence  to  Northumber- 
land, where  he  found  a  church,  but  wondered 
how  the  preacher  could  stay  there,  when  he 
had  talents  that  would  support  him  hand- 
somely in  New  England.  He  went  on  then  to 
Pittsburg,  where  he  found  a  society  stronger 
than  that  which  gathers  there  now,  after  forty- 
two  years.  Westward  from  Pittsburg,  he  went 
into  Ohio,  where  he  found  the  "  Christian"  de- 


86  SECULAR   BUT    SACRED. 

nomination  quite  strong.  He  was  attending  one 
of  their  meetings,  when  a  venerable  preacher 
walked  in,  with  his  Bible  and  hymn-book  nicely 
wrapped  in  a  piece  of  deer  skin,  and  gave  the 
people  a  prayer  an  hour  long  and  a  sermon 
nearly  three.  Here  our  missionary  distributed 
some  tracts,  as  indeed  he  did  wherever  he  went^ 
if  he  thought  they  would  be  welcome. 

In  Cincinnati,  he  found  a  number  of  persons  of 
our  faith  anxious  to  start  a  church.  In  Louisville 
and  at  St.  Louis,  there  was  the  same  anxiety  ;  of 
the  latter  place  he  says, "  A  church  here  may  in- 
clude some  of  the  best  citizens,  if  the  right  man 
will  go  there  ;  but  should  the  preacher  in  his 
zeal  hold  meetings  in  the  market-place,  or  under 
the  shade  of  a  tree,  he  will  fail  to  do  the  good  he 
might  do  with  more  prudence." 

After  this,  he  visited  and  inspected  the  inter- 
esting social  experiment  at  Harmony,  and  found 
the  cornfields  and  vineyards  overrun  with  weeds, 
the  fine  church  turned  into  a  workshop,  and  the 
socialists  hard  at  work  playing  ball,  while  every- 
thing about  the  place  gave  signs  of  an  impend- 
ing crisis.  In  another  place  he  strayed  into  a 
prayer-meeting,  in  which  one  man  was  praying 


SECULAR   BUT   SACRED.  87 

and  the  rest  shouting,  laughing,  groaning,  and 
weeping,  "  until,"  he  says,  "  deafened  by  their 
clamor,  and  disgusted  with  their  worship,  I  had 
to  get  away." 

And  so  it  came  to  pass,  at  last,  that  our  mis- 
sionary arrived  safe  back  again  in  Boston,  after 
an  absence  of  five  months,  in  which  he  visited 
twelve  States,  and  travelled  fifteen  hundred  miles 
through  all  the  pleasant  summer  days  of  1826. 

But  in  the  report  from  which  I  have  drawn 
these  notes,  there  is  one  very  notable  feature, 
perhaps  unparalleled  in  missionary  annals.  In 
this  long  journey  of  five  months,  going  through 
twelve  States  and  eighty-eight  counties,  there  is 
no  mention  made  that  this  apostle  in  all  that 
time  preached  a  single  sermon.  It  is  a  sad  re- 
port to  read.  Nothing  can  exceed  the  decorum 
and  good  taste  of  everything  the  good  man  did. 
He  never  stood  in  the  market-place  nor  under  a 
spreading  tree  with  his  heart  so  full  of  the  Word 
of  Life  that  he  must  speak,  whether  the  West 
would  bear  or  forbear ;  but  one  of  those  shout- 
ing Methodists,  at  whose  conduct  lie  had  felt 
such  disgust,  would  have  done  it,  though  the  re- 
sult had  been  a  coat  of  tar  and  feathers ;  and  it 


88  SECULAR   BUT    SACRED. 

is  equally  curious  to  notice  that  when  he  made 
this  report  of  his  services,  no  man  seems  to  have 
felt  that  he  had  not  done  his  whole  duty. 

Better  things,  however,  were  speedily  to  follow. 
Next  year  Jolui  Pierpont  bore  his  great,  burning 
heart  into  Ohio,  Kentucky,  and  Missouri,  pro- 
claiming the  glad  tidings,  and  societies  were 
started  in  Louisville  and  Cincinnati.  In  1834 
William  G.  Eliot  went  to  St.  Louis,  and  George 
W.  Hosmer  to  BufFalo  in  1836.  Li  1833  James 
Freeman  Clarke  went  to  Louisville,  where, 
not  content  with  preaching  only,  he  started  the 
"  Western  Messenger,"  a  magazine  still  quite 
valuable  for  some  of  its  papers,  and  curious,  as 
the  medium  through  which  some  of  Emerson's 
finest  poems  first  saw  the  light.  All  these  men 
also  acted  as  missionaries  to  the  country  about 
their  stations,  and  it  was  in  one  of  tliese  raids,  as 
we  have  seen,  that  George  W.  Hosmer  came  to 
Chicago,  where  Mr.  Conant  heard  him,  and  was 
led,  thereby,  into  the  way  of  life,  went  to  Cam- 
bridge, and,  returning  at  the  end  of  a  year,  pre- 
pared to  fall  into  line  witli  the  devoted  little  band 
that,  in  this  new  country,  were  working  the 
work  of  Him  who  sent  them. 


SECULAR   BUT   SACRED.  89 

The  centre  of  tlie  work  Mr.  Conant  was  des- 
tined to  do  in  the  West  was  the  then  very  small 
settlement  of  Geneva,  on  the  Fox  River.  The 
leading  men  and  women  in  the  place  were  from 
New  England,  and  among  these  were  some  from 
the  West  Church  in  Boston,  who  could  not  be 
satisfied  with  such  preaching  as  was  commonly 
beard  in  the  new  country  ;  they  longed  to  bear 
once  again  the  truth  with  which  good  Dr.  Lowell 
bad  made  them  glad,  just  as  a  Scotsman  longs  to 
bear  a  skylark. 

Mr.  Conant  went  there  first  to  preach  in  1839 
while  still  a  farmer.  The  friends  who  heard 
him  still  remember  bis  first  appearance,  and 
that  they  supposed  be  was  a  new  settler 
come  in  to  borrow  a  few  bushels  of  corn,  oi 
to  make  a  trade.  It  was  a  welcome  surprise 
to  find  that  he  bad  come  not  to  get  bread  from 
them,  but  to  bring  them  the  bread  of  life. 

He  was  quaintly  dressed,  they  say,  and  did  no. 
promise  much  at  the  first  glance.  I  suppose  h^ 
was  not  a  bit  Hke  Dr.  Lowell,  but  when  be  had 
once  preached  to  them,  they  felt  it  was  all  right, 
recognized  the  fine  soul  vinder  the  queer  garb, 
made  him  welcome  with  all  their  hearts,  and  in- 


90  SECULAR   BUT   SACRED. 

vited  him  to  come  again  ;  and  so,  when  he  came 
back  from  Cambridge,  it  was  the  most  natural 
thing  in  the  world  that  he  should  be  their  minis- 
ter and  settle  among  them  for  good.  It  was  at 
once  the  need  of  the  place  and  the  wish  of  the 
man,  however,  that  he  should  come  as  a  mis- 
sionary not  to  Geneva  only,  but  to  the  whole 
country  round  about ;  that  was  what  he  wanted 
to  do,  what  his  heart  bounded  at,  for  it  was  his 
meat  and  drink,  and  psalm  and  prayer,  and  faith 
and  hope,  that  he  might  go  far  and  wide,  bearing 
the  gospel  of  peace. 

Still  in  Geneva,  where  the  work  was  to  find  its 
natural  centre,  there  was  hesitation,  difficulty, 
and  doubt.  Mr.  Conant  began  to  preach  there 
on  the  1st  of  August,  1841,  but  on  the  8th 
of  May,  1842,  he  writes,  ''  We  had  our  first 
meeting  to-day,  on  the  subject  of  forming  a  re- 
ligious society  in  Geneva,  but  there  was  a  doubt 
as  to  whether  the  right  time  had  come  to  begin, 
and  a  declaration  of  principles  that  had  been 
circulated  and  signed  by  twenty  persons  was  re- 
served for  further  consideration."  A  month 
after  this,  however,  the  new  society  was  organized 
as  the  first  Christian  society  of  Geneva.     Very 


SECULAR   BUT   SACRED.  91 

few  were  present  at  tlie  meeting,  and  the  prospect 
was  still  dubious,  but  there  was  life  at  the  heart 
of  the  movement,  and  that  is  always  the  main 
thing,  so  Mr.  Conant  was  chosen  pastor ;  Samuel 
Clarke  and  Scotto  Clarke,  assistant  teachers  ; 
James  Sterling,  Amasa  White,  and  Jonas  Carr, 
trustees  ;  Charles  Patton,  treasurer,  and  F.  Whit- 
ing, secretary. 

Then  it  soon  began  to  be  clear  that  they  must 
have  a  meeting-house.  The  school-house  in 
which  they  met  was  a  very  poor  place,  not  easy 
to  come  at,  not  easy  to  warm  in  winter,  and  to 
meet  there  was  like  flying  with  a  broken  wing. 
There  has  been  a  good  deal  said  about  churches 
in  destitute  places ;  in  one  sort  of  destitute 
place  a  church  is  just  as  sure  to  be  built  as  birds' 
nests  are,  and  that  is  where  the  destitution  is  felt 
by  those  who  live  there.  It  was  felt  in  Geneva, 
and  so  the  church  was  a  foregone  conclusion  ; 
it  was  built  in  the  hearts  of  the  little  band  of 
worshippers  first,  and  then  the  stone  and  lime 
and  lumber  followed,  as  the  effect  a  cause. 

Miss  Patton,  a  most  devoted  friend  of  the  soci- 
ety, returning  to  Roxbury  from  a  visit  in  the 
West,  hiterested  many  friends  there  and  in  Boston 


92  SECULAR   BUT   SACRED. 

to  help  build  a  cliiircli  in  Geneva.  They  started 
a  fair,  at  which  a  very  handsome  sum  was  real- 
ized and  sent  out.  This,  with  what  the  society 
could  give  beside  in  money,  materials,  and  labor, 
put  up  a  church,  which  was  opened  in  January, 
1844,  when  Mr.  Conant  preached  the  sermon, 
Mr.  Harrington,  of  Chicago,  offered  the  prayer 
of  dedication  ;  Eben  Conant  wrote  an  original 
hymn  for  it,  and  various  Christian  elders,  with 
Arthur  B.  Fuller,  then  teaching  school  at  Belvi- 
dere,  took  the  rest  of  the  service.  From  this 
time  the  cause  in  Geneva  was  sure  of  its  footing. 
The  Association  in  Boston  gave  generously  to 
support  the  preacher,  sent  books  and  tracts  with- 
out stint,  had  a  warm  regard  always  for  the 
young  church,  and  did  for  it  all  that  was  noble 
and  good. 

The  life  of  a  minister  is  generally  uneventful. 
It  is  sometimes  identified  with  the  most  sublime, 
or  awful,  or  romantic,  or  pathetic  incidents  ;  it 
offers  examples  that  are  among  the  grandest  the 
world  has  ever  seen  of  human  character  ;  it  is 
able  to  point  to  those  that  are  "  foremost  of  the 
sons  of  light "  among  its  most  illustrious  names, 
but  for  all  that,  the  majority  of  those  that  follow 


SECULAR   BUT   SACRED.  93 

this  calling  must  be  content  with  a  very  quiet 
and  commonplace  obscurity.  This,  on  the  whole, 
is  to  be  Mr.  Conant's  lot  during  his  ministry 
of  sixteen  years  in  Geneva.  Devoted  to  his 
work  with  a  singular  and  entirely  unselfish  devo- 
tion, and  doing  more  hard  work  than  most  men 
do  in  it,  his  best  claim  to  our  regard  lies  first 
in  the  breadth  and  deepness  of  the  sympathies, 
and  then  in  the  full-handed  industry  with  which 
his  work  was  done. 

He  has  left  journals  of  these  years  in  a  great 
profusion.  They  are  far  too  ample  to  be  printed 
in  this  small  volume,  but  I  will  give  such  parts 
of  them  as  tell  his  story  better  than  I  could  tell 
it,  only  drawing  the  lines  he  himself  has  drawn, 
by  giving  first,  from  one  journal,  what  will  show 
how  his  life  went  on  in  Geneva,  while  he  held,  as 
it  were,  the  pioneer's  axe  in  one  hand  and  the 
Bible  in  the  other,  doing  a  man's  work  with  both ; 
and  then  in  another  chapter  some  account  of  his 
work  as  a  missionary  :  — 

"  1842,  Jan.  7.     Removed  to  Geneva. 
"  Wrote  on  a  sermon,  and  made  a  door. 


94  SECULAR   BUT   SACRED. 

"  Repaired  our  room.  Worked  at  a  sermon. 
Doctored  sore  eyes. 

''  Raised  the  liouse  frame. 

'*  Cut  and  drew  ice,  and  made  curtain  rods. 

"  Made  a  plan  of  a  sermon  on  tlie  prodigal  son, 
a  pair  of  quilting  frames,  and  an  argument  at  the 
Lyceum  against  capital  punishment. 

"  Read  Neander.     Made  a  chair. 

"  Worked  on  a  sermon.     Drew  straw. 

"  Worked  on  a  sermon.  Made  a  partition  for 
the  stable. 

"  Worked  on  a  sermon,  and  drew  wood.  Snow 
two  feet  deep. 

"  Commenced  a  sermon,  and  worked  in  the 
woods. 

"  Doctored  sick  horse.     Cut  wood. 

"  Read  Neander.     Horse  died. 

"  Read  Neander.     Mended  a  pump. 

"  Wrote  on  a  sermon,  read  Neander,  and  mad^ 
a  wheelbarrow. 

"  Read  Bushnell.     Drew  out  manure. 

"  Began  a  sermon.     Planted  potatoes. 

"  Wrote  a  sermon  on  Episcopacy.  Built  ar 
ice-house. 


SECULAR    BUT   SACRED.  95 

**  Read  the  Methodist  Discipline.     Helped  my 
wife  to  wash. 

"  Planted  potatoes.     Wrote  a  sermon  on  Unita- 
rianism. 

"  Worked  on  a  sermon.     Made  benches  for  the 
school. 

"  Finished  sermon,  and  haying. 

"  Wrote  a  sermon.     Set  out  plum-trees. 

"  Planned  a  sermon.     Made  a  gravel  walk. 

"  Wrote  at  a  sermon.     Papered  my  study. 

"  Wrote  at  a  sermon.     Planted  seventy  peach- 
trees. 

"  Finished  sermon.     Made  soap. 

"  Wrote   at  a   sermon.     Made  window-frames 
for  Richard  Moore. 

u  Wrote  sermon.     Planted  onions. 

"  Planned    a   sermon.      Made  a  bedstead  for 
the  cobbler. 

"  1849,  Nov,  21.  Went  to  Elgin  with  father,  to 
build  a  cupola  for  the  cluirch. 

"  22.     Worked  at  cupola. 

"  23.     Raised  cupola. 

"  24.     Hung  the  bell. 

"  25.     Preached  in  tie  church. 

"  26.     Finished  the  cupola,  and  went  home. 


yb  SECULAR   BUT   SACRED. 

"  Wrote  a  sermon.     Repaired  a  wagon. 
"  Read  Milman.     Planted  raspberries. 
"  Wrote  a  sermon.     Plastered  the  cellar-floor. 
"  Read  Macaulay.     Made  candles. 
"  1850,    Sept.  12.     Railroad  train  came   into 
Geneva  for  the  first  time." 

This  is  the  plan  of  what  may  be  called  the 
journal  of  a  working  man.  The  record  stretches 
from  Jan.  1,  1842,  to  Dec.  6,  1853,  and  then 
ends..  There  would  be  no  additional  interest  in 
printing  the  whole  ;  what  is  given  here  is  a  fair 
sample,  and  is  far  too  characteristic  of  the  man 
to  be  omitted,  and  I  think  we  cannot  afford  to 
lose  this  revelation  of  the  way  in  which  all  things 
worked  together  about  the  little  parsonage  when 
the  parson  could  be  at  his  post.  Soap  and  ser- 
mons, the  Methodist  Discipline,  and  washing- 
day,  Episcopacy  and  an  ice-liouse,  Macaulay 
and  candles,  Neander  and  a  wheelbarrow,  the 
study  and  the  stable,  a  course  of  lectures  on  the 
sects,  and  a  bedstead  for  the  lame  cobbler,  —  a 
journal  like  this  is  only  possible  of  the  life  of  a 
man  as  honest  as  he  was,  and  in  earnest,  living  on 
the  frontier,  and  capable  of  turning  his  hand  to 


SECULAR   BUT    SACRED.  97 

anything.  There  are,  of  course,  many  days  in 
which  the  work  done  is  altogether  secular,  when 
the  man  is  out  of  doors  hammering  away  at 
something  from  dayUght  till  dark.  Then  lie  is 
whole  days  in  the  study  with  his  books  and  at  liis 
desk.  Now  he  is  in  tlie  fields  and  woods,  and  then 
in  the  garden  and  the  workshop.  But  what  the 
journal  never  yields  in  these  twelve  years  is  a  sin- 
gle line  to  tell  of  a  single  moment  devoted  to 
dismal  speculations  about  the  universe,  or  to 
grumbling  because  things  did  not  go  as  well  as 
the  writer  expected.  There  is  no  sign  of  a  blue 
Monday,  or  a  feverish  Saturday.  I  sit  with  this 
journal  of  days'  works  before  me,  written  with 
the  most  abominable  ink  (home  made,  I  guess), 
and  there  still  seems  to  be  a  voice  crying  out  of 
the  homely  old  book  to  the  recording  angel.  Write, 
for  these  things  are  faithful  and  true.  They  are 
better  than  the  writer  ever  seems  to  guess ;  the 
hand  that  is  writing  is  only  half  conscious  of 
what  it  writes  about;  the  right  hand  does  not 
know  what  the  left  hand  doeth. 

One  brief  entry,  for  instance,  is  of  a  bedstead 
made  for  the  cobbler.     There  are  other  places 
in  which  this  time-honored  person  figures  in  the 
7 


98  SECULAR   BUT   SACRED. 

same  obscure  way,  and  these  lines  are  but  the  ci- 
phers of  as  noble  and  touching  a  thing  as  ever 
was  done  by  a  man  in  Mr.  Conant's  position. 
The  cobbler  was  a  cripple,  and  wofully  helpless 
and  poor,  when  he  came  to  the  place  ;  he  could 
mend  shoes  if  he  had  a  room  to  live  in,  but  he 
had  no  possibility  of  getting  one.  This  minister 
of  the  gospel  could  not  afford  to  go  distracted 
about  that,  or  to  put  the  man  off  with  a  dollar 
and  send  him  about  his  —  starvation,  so  he  built 
a  place  for  him  entirely  with  his  own  hands, 
furnished  it  in  the  same  way,  and  started  the 
old  cripple  on  his  way  of  life  rejoicing.  He 
got  him  all  the  wood  he  wanted,  too,  for  the  win- 
ter, sawed,  split,  and  piled  it  for  him,  got  in  pro- 
vision for  him,  drove  the  wolf  once  for  all  from 
the  door,  and  the  result  was  the  happiest  cobbler 
in  Kane  County,  with  not  a  doubt  in  his  heart  for 
evermore  about  the  truth  of  this  liberal  Chris- 
tianity. Mr.  Conant  held  on  to  the  man  after 
that,  until  the  angels  got  him.  And  this  was 
but  one  instance  of  the  endeavor  he  made  con- 
stantly to  grapple  hand  to  hand  and  foot  to  foot 
with  things  about  which  most  of  us  feel  but  little 
personal  concern,  because  to  this  man  at  work 


SECULAR   BUT    SACRED.  99 

in  Geneva,  the  simplest  and  most  common  duty 
touched  at  once  his  own  heart,  and  the  heart  of 
the  Christian  faith.  He  was  as  quick  to  leap  to 
the  appeal  of  a  crippled  cobbler,  and  as  strong 
to  save  him,  as  if  the  Master  had  come  out  of 
heaven  to  bid  him  do  it,  and  had  told  him  he 
should  have  for  his  deed  an  endless  renown,  and 
the  praises  of  all  the  choirs  of  heaven. 


VI. 

MISSIONARY. 

The  field  stretching  away  from  Geneva  was 
ample  enough  for  a  host  of  missionaries,  who 
should  have  no  other  work  to  do  but  go  out  and 
preach  the  gospel  to  every  creature. 

But  the  chapter  just  read  of  the  life  of  a  work- 
ing man  has  told  us  something  about  what  Mr.  Co- 
nant  had  to  do  in  providing  for  his  own  household 
before  he  could  begin  to  venture  abroad  at  all. 
How  he  did  go  out,  and  what  came  of  his  apos- 
tolic journeys,  his  journal  must  again  inform  us, 
but,  as  in  the  previous  chapter,  only  by  its  essence 
and  spirit,  by  the  extract,  if  it  can  be  made,  of 
his  whole  missionary  life.  Then  the  chapter  that 
will  follow  this  on  the  Preacher  and  Pastor  will 
complete  my  record  of  his  life  at  Geneva,  and  the 
whole  will  be  clearer,  I  trust,  done  in  this  way 
than  if  I  had  made  of  the  sixteen  years  just  a 
chronological  jumble.     His  whole  life  at  Geneva 


MISSIONARY.  101 

was  a  threefold  cord  which  cannot  be  broken,  but 
as  the  strands  of  it  are  so  different  in  their  na- 
ture, I  have  thought  it  would  be  most  instructive 
to  look  at  each  strand  separately,  point  out  its 
quality,  and  then  let  the  whole  strong  cable  by 
which  this  man  was  so  fastened  to  his  fellow-men, 
and  to  God,  abide  in  its  simple  and  beautiful 
perfection. 

"  1841.  Commenced  preaching  in  Geneva  on 
my  return  from  Cambridge.  From  the  20th  to 
the  28th  made  a  journey  to  the  North- West, 
preaching  at  Rockford,  Oregon  City,  and  Belvi- 
dere. 

"  Oct.  14.  Went  to  Joliet,  preached  four  ser- 
mons, and  visited  the  people. 

''Nov.  10.  Preached  at  Blackberry.  Met 
some  "  Christian  "  preachers  there,  and  arranged 
with  them  to  unite  our  labors. 

''Nov.  14.  Went  to  Joliet,  but  met  with  only 
poor  encouragement. 

^'Nov.  21.  Preached  at  Blackberry,  where  I 
baptized  my  wife  and  Fayette  Churchill. 

"Dec.  24  to  the  end  of  the  year.  Went  into 
Wisconsin  Territory,   preaching  at    Burlington, 


102  MISSIONARY. 

Spring   Prairie,   Gardiner's   Prairie,   Rochester, 
and  Montalana. 

"1842,  Jan.  3.      Attended  Quarterly  Confer- 
ence at  Montalana. 

"  16.     Preached  at  Rock  Creek. 

"  30.     Preached    at    Batavia.      Found    great 
prejudice  about  us  there. 

''•Feb.  26.     Preached  at  St.  Charles  in  the  new 
Universalist  meeting-house  to  a  good  audience. 

'''April  3.     Attended   Christian  Conference  at 
Rhillbuck  Creek. 

*'  10.     Preached  at  Sugar  Grove. 

"  14  to  20.     Went  into  Wisconsin,  preaching  as 
I  found  opportunity. 

''Aug.  1.  One  year  since  I  returned  from 
Cambridge.  During  the  year  I  find  I  have  trav- 
elled as  a  missionary  1,844  miles,  distributed 
150  volumes  of  books  and  1,000  tracts. 
^  "  Oct.  9.  Preached  for  the  first  time  at  War- 
renville.  The  Baptist  church  there  is  the 
largest  in  the  Western  country,  and  includes 
most  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  village,  very  jeal- 
ous of  Unitarianism,  but  some  are  anxious  to 
hear. 

"1843,  Jan.  17.     Lectured  at  Naperville  on 


MISSIONARY.  103 

the  Evidences  of  Christianity,  and  the  Causes  of 
Modern  Unbelief. 

'''March  1.    Lectured  at  Batavia  on  the  Trinity. 

"  March  28  to  April  5.  Went  into  Wiscon- 
sin, preaching  in  Burlington,  then  in  McHenry. 
Found  great  interest  in  our  ideas. 

'•'April  30.     Preached  in  Chicago. 

''May  14.  Preached  at  Rock  Creek,  Sugar 
Grove,  and  Aurora. 

"July  1,  2,  3.  Held  general  meeting  at 
Geneva.  Five  elders  of  Christian  body  present. 
Baptized  J,  S.  Wheeler  in  the  Fox  River,  and  ad- 
dressed the  people  from  the  water,  on  the  nature 
and  importance  of  the  ordinance.  Great  interest 
felt. 

"Aug.  13.     Preached  in  Chicago. 

"  13  to  Sept.  3.  Went  North,  preaching  at 
Wheeling,  Elgin,  Dundee,  Silver  Creek,  and 
other  places. 

"Dec.  10  to  15.  Attended  general  meeting 
at  Joliet,  lecturing  on  the  Atonement,  the  Trin- 
ity, Practical  Christianity,  and  Dec.  30  and  31 
attended  general  meeting  at  Warrenville. 

"  1844,  April  2  to  16.  Went  into  Wisconsin, 
preaphing  at  Dundee,  Solan,  Little  Prairie,  Bur- 


104  MISSIONARY. 

lington,  Milwaukie,  attending  also  the  Christian 
Conference,  where  Brother  Bristol  was  tried, 
found  guilty  of  immorality,  and  turned  out  of 
the  connection. 

''May  26.  Attended  a  yearly  meeting  of  the 
Disciples  at  Naperville,  but  found  them  full  of 
prejudice  against  us. 

"  June  9.  Preached  at  Belvidere  on  the  Trin- 
ity, and  on  the  Doctrine  of  Election.  The  Baptist 
minister  thereupon  began  a  course  of  lectures  on 
Bible  Doctrine,  but  then  left  that  and  went  on 
to  show  that  Unitarians  are  German  Rationalists 
and  infidels,  denying  the  inspiration  and  author- 
ity of  the  Scriptures.  He  said  the  discourse  of 
Theodore  Parker  at  the  ordination  of  Mr.  Shack- 
ford  in  South  Boston  represented  the  sentiments 
of  the  Unitarian  clergy  in  Boston  in  1841 ! !  I  re- 
plied, defending  our  views  as  well  as  I  could,  and, 
the  result  was  that  quite  a  number  embraced 
them. 

''July  15  to  Aug.  15.  Went  to  St.  Louis, 
Quincy,  Warsaw,  Burlington,  Rock  Island,  and 
Galena.  Mormonism  and  politics,  I  found  were 
the  great  and  absorbing  topics,  so  that  I  did  not 
get  good  attention.     Joseph  Smith,   the  Mormon 


MISSIONARY.  105 

prophet,  had  just  been  killed  by  a  mob.  I  visited 
Nauvoo,  and  spent  three  days  with  his  family." 

So  runs  the  record  of  the  missionary  life  of 
Mr.  Conant  to  the  end.  From  about  this  time  to 
June,  1845,  he  went  regularly  to  Belvidere,  and 
made  that  a  second  parish,  but  at  last  found  that 
the  distance  was  too  great  to  permit  him  to  go 
on  with  his  pastorship  tliere,  so  that  the  work 
had  to  be  taken  up  by  another  man.  After 
this,  he  went  on  a  journey  through  the  Rock 
River  country,  in  which,  at  Como,  he  found  ten 
Unitarian  families.  Then  he  preached  regularly 
in  Elgin  for  a  long  while,  making  that  a  second 
parish,  —  going  also  to  Joliet,  Belvidere,  and 
many  other  places  with  his  word  of  life  and 
tracts  and  books. 

In  Elgin,  April  5,  1846,  he  organized  a  free 
Christian  congregation  of  twenty  members,  in 
which  every  member  is  left  to  the  free  exercise  of 
his  own  understanding  and  conscience. 

April  27th  of  this  year  he  started  for  New 
England  to  attend  the  anniversaries,  preaching 
on  his  way  twice  in  New  York  on  the  Wants 
of  the  West.  In  New  England,  also,  he  preached 
in  a  number  of  places  on  the  Wants  of  the  West, 


106  MISSIONARY. 

and  received  a  great  welcorae.  Collections  were 
made,  interest  was  aroused,  his  hands  and  his 
heart  were  full,  and  altogether  he  had  a  great 
time. 

Returning  to  the  West  by  way  of  his  old  home 
in  Brandon,  he  was  able  to  preach  there  in  the 
church  good  John  Conant  had  done  so  much  to 
build  up,  and  where  the  preacher  himself  had 
attended  as  a  child,  and  as  a  young  man  had 
been  admitted  a  member.  It  was  a  great  day  for 
him,  as  we  may  well  believe.  On  the.  27th  of  the 
month  he  was  safe  at  home  again. 

But  soon  after  this  the  young  apostle  began 
to  feel  that  there  was  a  limit  even  to  his  endur- 
ance. Out  in  all  weathers  where  as  yet  rail- 
roads were  below  the  Eastern  horizon,  taking 
the  pot-luck  of  the  frontiers  as  to  his  food,  and 
his  chance  as  to  sleeping,  whenever  he  wandered 
away  from  the  cosey  parsonage  in  Geneva,  with 
all  the  work  of  heart  and  brain  which  he  had 
to  do,  and  with  a  constant  anxiety  about  some 
of  his  missionary  stations,  —  all  this  at  last 
broke  him  down,  so  that  for  a  while  he  could  only 
attend  to  his  two  widely  separated  parishes  of 
Geneva  and  Elgin,  regretting  all  the  while  that 


MISSIONARY.  107 

he  could  do  but  little  more.  Before  the  end  of 
1847,  however,  he  was  at  work  as  hard  as  ever, 
baptizing  by  immersion,  or  affusion,  as  the  folks 
prefer,  organizing  in  Como,  preaching  in  Dixon, 
and  Aurora,  and  distributing  books  and  tracts 
everywhere. 

1843,  on  the  19th  of  January,  he  was  able  to 
open  his  new  meeting-house  in  Elgin,  toward 
which  he  had  given  two  hundred  dollars  of  the 
money  raised  in  New  England,  when  he  was  there, 
and  Elgin  rose  to  the  dignity  of  providing  him  a 
'•'■regular^''  salary  of  from  one  hundred  and 
twenty-five  dollars  to  one  hundred  and  fifty  dol 
lars  per  annum  for  one  service  each  Sunday.  In 
the  June  of  this  year  he  was  in  Indiana,  preaching 
and  distributing  books  without  stint.  At  Cole 
Creek  in  this  journey  he  met  a  Christian  elder, 
James  McKinney,  who  told  him  that  he  had  the 
highest  salary  of  any  man  of  their  denomination 
about  there  ;  for  whereas  the  rest  did  not  aver- 
age more  than  twenty-five  dollars  a  year,  he  had 
twenty-nine  dollars  and  tliirty-nine  cents  ! 

In  the  May  of  1849  he  went  again  to  Boston, 
preaching  and  speaking  on  the  Needs  of  the 
West  at  the  anniversaries,  collecting  books  and 


108  MISSIONARY. 

money,  also,  wherever  there  was  a  chance.  In 
this  visit  James  Freeman  Clarke,  who  had  heard 
how  Mr.  Conant,  the  winter  before,  had  lost  his 
horse,  slipped  into  his  hands  the  money  to  buy  an- 
other. Cyrus  Bartol  bade  him  go  into  his  library 
and  take  what  books  he  wanted.  Other  friends 
remembered  the  wife  and  children.  Everybody 
was  glad  to  see  and  hear  him,  and  on  his  way 
home,  by  way  of  Brandon  once  more,  he  preached 
in  the  town-hall  on  the  sect  everywhere  spoken 
against,  from  which  I  fear  good  John  Conant's 
church  had  been  refused  him  this  time.  Still 
when  we  remember  how  a  sense  of  the  courte- 
sies due  to  the  place  and  the  preacher  acts  on 
all  preachers  when  they  stand  in  another  man's 
pulpit,  we  need  not  feel  sorry  that  Mr.  Conant,  for 
once  in  his  old  town,  could  let  the  word  have  free 
course  and  be  glorified. 

Jan.  3,  1850,  he  writes,  "It  is  now  the  begin- 
ning of  the  last  half  of  the  nineteenth  century. 
How  much  is  to  be  done  in  tliis  field  of  labor  to 
which  I  am  called  !  I  would  be  a  more  faithful 
and  a  better,  that  I  may  be  a  more  useful  man. 
0  my  Father,  help  me." 

In  1850, 1  find  Mr.  Conant  preaching  regularly 


MISSIONARY.  109 

at  Geneva  and  Elgin,  and  beside  that  at  a  school- 
house  on  the  prairie  on  his  way  between  the  two 
parishes,  preaching  beside  this  in  St.  Charles, 
Rock  River  Grove,  and  at  other  places,  and  dis- 
tributing his  beloved  books  wherever  he  went. 

In  1851,  in  addition  to  his  other  work,  he  went 
to  Meadville  to  commencement,  to  Detroit  to  Mr. 
Mumford's  ordination,  and  to  Chicago  to  preach 
for  the  Rev.  Mr.  Skinner,  Universalist.  He  notes 
that  there  seems  to  be  in  this  denomination  a 
tendency  to  a  catholic  spirit  which  ought  by  all 
means  to  be  met  with  sympathy  on  our  part. 
Then  there  were  ministers'  meetings  here  and 
there,  at  which  sermons  were  read  and  things  said 
about  the  common  faith  and  work  that  sent  every- 
body home  with  a  new  glow  of  devotion. 

May  17,  1852,  he  went  to  Cincinnati,  to  help 
organize  the  Western  Unitarian  Conference,  and 
met  W.  G.  Eliot,  A.  B.  Fuller,  R.  R.  Shippen, 
T.  J.  Mumford,  Rev.  Mr.  Boyer,  of  Connelton, 
Messrs.  Heywood  and  Harlowe,  Livermore  and 
Webster,  DeLange  and  Clarke,  Huidekoper  and 
Hosmer,  and  a  great  number  more  belonging  to 
the  West,  and  Dr.  Briggs,  Dr.  Lothrop,  and  Dr. 
Ellis,  from  Boston. 


110  MISSIONARY. 

And  so  it  would  be  very  pleasant,  if  life  was 
long  enough,  to  read  every  word  of  these  old 
journals  down  to  the  last  entry. 

June  20,  1857,  he  tells  us  that  for  sixteen 
years,  wanting  three  Sabbaths,  he  has  been 
preaching  in  Geneva,  has  formed  many  tender 
ties,  but  now  feels  that  it  is  his  duty  to  leave 
them.  How  the  duty  came  to  be  clear  to  him, 
I  must  tell  in  another  chapter.  This  is  a  very 
brief  record  of  a  duty  done  for  the  whole  land 
about  him.  When  St.  Francis  Xavier  lay  dying,  his 
only  cry  was  Amplius,  Amplius,  —  Farther,  farther 
yet,  —  as  if  the  whole  East  was  too  small  for  him. 
This  man,  as  he  tells  this  story  of  his  missionary 
labors,  seems,  as  he  is  living  through  these  years. 
always  to  be  devoured  by  the  same  hunger  for 
the  conquest  to  God  of  the  West.  He  would,  had 
his  power  been  equal  to  his  zeal,  have  won  it  all. 
This  record  amply  shows  that  he  did  what  he 
could,  desiring  always  to  come  to  that  noble  con- 
summation of  the  good  old  hymn  :  — 

"  My  body  with  my  charge  lay  down, 
And  cease  at  once  to  work  and  live." 


VIL 

PREACHER     AND     PASTOR. 

Every  wise  minister  gives  the  best  he  has,  first, 
to  his  own  congregation.  Those  that  the  Fa- 
ther has  given  him,  and  who  have  come  to  him, 
he  can  in  no  wise  cast  out  from  the  first  place  in 
his  heart  and  mind.  Sermons,  sympathies,  fore- 
thought, reflection,  he  garners  and  uses  in  that 
small  corner  of  the  field  he  has  to  care  for. 
When  it  is  otherwise,  it  is  doubtful  whether  he 
should  have  a  corner.  The  people  will  only  take 
chafi'  from  their  pastor  when  they  know  he  has 
not  wasted  the  wheat,  or  sold  it  in  another  mar- 
ket. It  is  always  hard  for  a  flock  to  hunger 
and  not  be  fed  ;  but  if  there  be  an  undertone  that 
seems  to  say,  "  You  see  I  have  nothing  to-day  that 
will  feed  you.  I  tried  hard  to  get  something,  but 
failed,  and  while  you  hunger,  I  faint,"  there  may 
be  patience  in  the  people  to  wait  for  better  things, 
but  only  when  they  are  sure  the  best  that  could  be 


112  PREACHER    AND    PASTOR. 

has  been  done.  I  suppose  Mr.  Conant  guessed 
this  at  once,  and  so  he  made  it  the  rule  of  his 
ministry  that,  whatever  he  might  do  beside,  the 
best  he  had  should  be  given  first  to  Geneva. 
That  was  the  Bethany  where  those  lived  he  loved 
best,  where  he  rested,  and  was  cared  for  by  good 
hearts  and  ready  hands.  The  readers  of  this 
book  are  not,  therefore,  to  imagine  that  the 
preacher  and  pastor  was  merely  the  shadow  of 
the  working  man  and  missionary.  This  outside 
work  was  but  the  setting  of  the  gem. 

It  is  clear,  also,  that  the  minister  had  the  in- 
sight to  perceive  which  of  these  offices  of  the 
pastor  and  preacher  should  take  the  greatest 
place.  He  did  not  believe  that  to  be  a  good 
pastor  is  any  excuse  for  being  a  poor  preacher. 
The  easy  paths  of  pastoral  gossip  into  which  so 
many  men  are  allured  never  attracted  him  away 
from  the  more  trying  and  exhausting  work  of  the 
study.  He  felt  what  we  should  all  feel,  that  in  the 
cure  of  souls  the  pastor,  if  he  be  wise  and  tender, 
ijaay  be  a  good  nurse ;  but  the  preacher,  if  he  be 
strong  and  true,  is  a  good  physician. 

And  so  it  was  that,  though  Mr.  Conant  never 
grew  to  be  what  is  called  an  eloquent  or  popular 


PREACHER   AND   PASTOR.  113 

preacher,  because  some  peculiarities  in  manner 
and  voice  in  a  measure  prevented  that,  no  man 
ever  tried  harder  than  he  did  to  be  a  strong  and 
true  preacher,  so  he  was  in  the  best  sense  a  good 
preacher,  growing  better  to  the  end.  This  makes 
the  mere  titles  and  subjects  of  his  sermons  a 
most  interesting  study.  I  feel,  as  I  read  them, 
as  if  I  am  with  him,  watching  how  he  lays 
out  his  work,  and  how  he  goes  into  it  resolute, 
please  God,  to  make  it  as  good  as  possible.  How 
he  perceives  that  no  mere  hash  of  negations,  with 
texts  for  salt  and  sarcasms  for  pepper,  can  ever 
bring  men  to  feel  the  powers  of  the  world  to 
come.  He  must  study  to  approve  himself  a 
workman  that  needeth  not  to  be  ashamed,  and  if 
he  will  not  study,  then  sooner  or  later  ashamed 
he  must  be. 

A  great  many  of  his  sermons,  therefore,  as  will 
be  seen  in  what  he  says  about  ten  years  of  his 
ministry,  in  the  sermon  annexed  to  this  chapter, 
are  the  strongest  and  stoutest  affirmations  he  can 
make  of  the  Fatherhood  and  love  and  goodness 
and  wisdom  and  power  of  God. 

Then  there  are  numbers  on  the  brotherhood  of 
Jesus  Christ  and  of  men,  of   the  worthiness  of 

8 


114  PREACHER  AND   PASTOR. 

the  worst  for  this  brotherhood,  of  the  final  ani 
certain  salvation  of  all  men,  and  the  certainty 
that  all  things  are  now  working  together  to  that 
end. 

Earnest,  strong,  and  tender  sermons  then 
come,  on  the  curse  and  baleful  blight  of  sin,  on 
the  beauty  of  and  need  for  holiness,  and  all  the 
great  lines  of  personal  conduct  in  its  relation  to 
the  higher  life.  Then  there  are  special  courses 
of  sermons  and  lectures  on  the  relation  of  science 
to  religion,  on  inspiration  and  many  other  as- 
pects of  the  Bible  question,  on  the  Sects  and 
Churches  of  Christendom,  their  Nature  and  Uses, 
The  Signs  of  the  Times,  The  Manliness  de- 
manded by  the  Times,  and  other  courses  demand- 
ing at  once  close  reading,  and  that  the  preacher 
shall  be  wide  awake  to  what  is  passing  about  him. 
He  would  touch,  also,  those  deep  and  awful  or 
tender  and  high  subjects  that  we  all  find  we  have 
to  speak  about,  —  The  Nature  of  Evil  and  the 
Good  of  it,  wherever  Evil  is  not  also  Sin.  Sleep 
and  Death.  Little  Children  taken  into  the  Arms 
of  Christ.  Jesus  weeping.  Jesus  washing  Feet. 
The  Cup  of  Cold  Water.  Paul  kneeling 
with    his     Friends    on     the     Sea-shore.     Then 


PREACHER   AND   PASTOR.  115 

he  would  get  close  to  the  common  things  of 
our  life,  and  light  them  up  afresh,  —  when  he 
preaches  on  The  Duty  of  loving  Money.  The 
Need  and  Joy  of  Labor.  The  Use  of  Railroads 
to  Religion.  The  Religion  of  Prompt  Payment. 
The  True  Art  of  Living,  and  so  on.  Finally, 
there  were  sermons  not  a  few  on  the  themes  that 
then  tried  the  souls  of  men,  and  were  the  tests 
of  the  faithful  preacher,  above  all  others,  —  The 
Sin  and  Curse  of  Human  Slavery.  The  Wick- 
edness of  any  Contempt  for  Humanity.  Con- 
servatism and  Christianity.  Christian  Democ- 
racy. Education.  Intemperance.  The  Liquor 
Trade,  and  every  other  object  and  aspect  of  re- 
form. Mr.  Conant  grappled  as  well  as  he  could 
with  all  these  questions.  The  one  cry  of  his 
heart  from  week  to  week  seems  to  have  been. 
What  must  I  say  on  Sunday  that  my  people  need 
most  to  hear  ?  for  that  I  must  take  for  my  sub- 
ject, and  leave  the  rest  to  God.  Then  he  said 
the  thing  that  was  in  him  with  all  his  might,  as 
one  that  must  give  an  account  for  every  idle 
word  in  the  day  of  judgment ;  and  that  was  his 
plan  and  endeavor  as  a  preacher. 

As  a  pastor  in  Geneva,  Mr.  Conant   can  only 


116  PREACHER   AND   PASTOR. 

be  measured  by  what  has  been  said  already,  and 
by  what  we  know  of  the  life  of  every  minister 
who  has  his  lot  in  a  small  country  town.  In 
such  a  town  as  Geneva  especially,  composed,  as 
it  was  in  those  days,  of  healthy,  hearty  people, 
there  is  but  little  pastoral  work  to  do.  In  the 
first  ten  years  of  his  pastorate  there. were  two 
deaths  of  adults  in  his  society,  and  in  that  time 
he  attended  only  five  funerals  of  adults  in  the 
whole  town,  wiiile  the  number  of  men,  wo- 
men, and  children  at  whose  funerals  he  was 
present  through  the  whole  country  was  only 
thirty-eight.  In  this  time  he  had  fifty-six  mar- 
riages. What  school  celebrations,  lectures,  ad- 
dresses, and  other"  public  occasions  "  caught  him 
up,  and  made  him  speak,  I  have  no  time  or  space 
to  tell,  but  will  close  this  chapter  with  what  is 
better  than  anything  I  could  say,  from  the  pen  of 
his  old  and  fast  friend  and  constant  church-mem- 
ber, Judge  Wilson,  of  Geneva,  to  whom  I  am 
indebted  for  many  hints  in  the  brief  study  I  have 
made :  — 

"  There  was  something  about  Mr.  Conant  that 
drew  you   irresistibly   toward   him.     We   never 


PREACHER   AND    PASTOR.  117 

thought  of  treating  him  as  a  pastor  with  any  re- 
serve or  ceremony.  When  he  entered  our  houses, 
he  seemed  always  as  one  of  the  family,  from 
whom  we  would  no  more  conceal  anything  than 
we  would  from  any  other  member  of  the  house- 
hold. He  took  the  same  interest  in  our  domes- 
tic affairs  as  he  did  in  his  own,  and  so  did  we  in 
his. 

"  This  made  him  a  cliarming  pastor.  Our  joys 
were  his  joys,  and  his  were  ours.  He  had,  more- 
over, a  habit  of  dropping  in  at  any  hour  in  the 
day,  without  the  least  ceremony,  to  tell  something 
he  had  been  reading,  or  consult  about  some  new 
project,  and  these  brief  calls  were  like  sunbeams. 
There  was  such  a  combination  of  frankness,  sym- 
patliy,  and  sincerity  in  his  nature  that  it  was  im- 
possible for  those  who  knew  him  well  not  to  love 
him.  If  an  unkind  word  escaped  his  lips,  he 
never  rested  until  he  had  made  threefold  repara- 
tion. In  serious  evils  and  trials,  he  was  always 
observed  to  be  undisturbed  and  patient.  Failures 
and  disappointments  that  would  have  discouraged 
most  men  only  inspired  our  pastor  with  new  en- 
ergy and  zeal.  Years  after  the  most  of  his  co- 
workers in   the  West  had  disappeared,  he   still 


118  PREACHER   AND   PASTOR. 

stood  at  his  post   faithfully,  and  kept   right  on 
working  with  all  his  heart." 

But  the  end  of  these  pleasant,  hard,  earnest, 
joyful  days  in  Geneva  came  at  last.  I  will  not  in- 
terfere with  Mr.  Con  ant's  own  account  of  the 
termination  of  his  ministry  as  it  is  written  in  his 
journal.  It  is,  in  its  brief  way,  a  contribution  to 
the  history  of  the  Christian  Church  of  the  time, 
and  so  reads  to  us  a  grave  lesson  we  cannot  af- 
ford to  ignore.  And  then  in  the  days  that  are 
opening  for  our  country  these  records  of  stout 
and  steadfast  nonconformity  will  be  gathered  up 
as  very  precious  things,  to  encourage  men  afresh 
to  stand  up  for  the  right,  though  every  tie  and 
the  heart-strings  beside,  be  broken  in  the  strife. 
The  journal  says,  July  24,  1856,  — 

''  Attended  the  funeral  of  Brother  S.  N.  Clarke, 
my  Sunday-school  superintendent,  and  my  very 
intimate  and  dear  friend.  The  loss  to  me  and 
to  the  society  in  the  death  of  Mr.  Clarke  is  un- 
speakable. He  was  a  model  of  manly  and  Chris- 
tian excellence,  whose  life  was  a  benediction,  and 
whose  presence  made  earth  more  like  heaven." 

And  then  June  20,  1857,  this  comes  :  — 


PREACHER    AND    PASTOR.  119 

"  Since  the  above  record,  I  have  passed  through 
many  trials  as  a  Christian  minister,  some  of  the 
severest  growing  out  of  my  preaching  against 
slavery  in  opposition  to  the  prejudices  and  wishes 
of  a  portion  of  the  society.  The  disaffection  has 
been  so  great  tliat  the  congregation  has  been 
considerably  diminished,  and  my  hopes  of  useful- 
ness in  Geneva  greatly  reduced.  Old  and  lead- 
ing members  of  the  society  have  expressed  so 
much  dislike  to  anti-slavery  preaching,  and  I  be- 
came so  much  disheartened,  that  some  three 
months  ago  I  promised  them  if  the  condition  of 
this  society  did  not  assume  a  more  favorable  as- 
pect in  six  months,  I  would  resign  my  pulpit. 

"  On  the  10th  instant,  I  received,  quite  unexpect- 
edly, a  unanimous  call  to  become  pastor  of  the 
Unitarian  society  in  Rockford,  and  have  accepted 
the  same,  and  expect  to  close  my  connection  with 
this  society  the  first  Sunday  in  July. 

''  For  sixteen  years,  wanting  three  Sabbaths,  I 
have  been  preacliing  in  Geneva,  and  have  formed 
many  tender  ties.  But  it  seems  to  me  now  a 
clear  case  of  duty  to  leave  them,  and  most  fer- 
vently do  I  commend  them  to  the  favor  of  God." 


120  PREACHER   AND   PASTOR. 

July  20th,  1851,  Mr.  Conant  preached  this 
sermon.  I  have  felt  it  must  be  printed  because 
it  is  the  man's  own  modest  summary,  up  to  date, 
of  what  I  have  tried  to  tell  of  his  work  as  preacher 
and  pastor,  and  is  the  best  possible  supplement  to 
a  chapter  that  would  be  quite  incomplete  without 
it:  — 

"  Give  an  account  of  thy  stewardship,"  —  Luke  xvi.  3. 

This  afternoon  completes  my  term  of  service 
as  a  Christian  minister  in  this  place  for  ten  years. 
Such  a  period  is  no  inconsiderable  portion  of 
human  life.  We  can  hardly  look  back  without 
some  serious  reflections  upon  its  changing  scenes 
and  interesting  events,  or  upon  the  manner  in 
which  we  have  been  doing  our  work  of  life. 

It  may  be  recollected  by  some  who  were  here 
at  the  commencement  of  my  ministry  that  I  pro- 
posed ten  years'  labor  here  as  an  experiment  by 
which  I  might  judge  of  the  prospect  of  accom- 
plishing a  sufficient  amount  of  good  to  justify 
my  remaining  longer.  The  declaration  of  such 
a  purpose  was  made  to  remove  an  impression 
which  prevailed  that  our  efforts  were  transient, 
and  would  soon  be  abandoned.  Through  the 
permission  and  blessing  of  Divine  Providence,  the 


PREACHER   AND    PASTOR.  121 

purpose  thus  declared  has  been  accomplished. 
The  ten  years  have  passed, —  the  experiment 
has  been  made,  —  the  time  for  looking  at  our 
labor  and  its  results  has  come. 

And  I  would  now  invite  your  attention,  — 
I.  To  the  religious  condition  of  things  at  the 
time  of  my  coming. 

II.  To  what  have  been  the  leading  objects 
of  my  ministry. 

III.  The  methods. 

IV.  The  results. 

When  I  commenced  preaching  here  after  my 
return  from  Cambridge,  there  was  no  religious 
society  in  existence,  and  no  regular  public  wor- 
ship was  maintained  in  the  village. 

Elder  John  Walworth  had  been  preaching  a 
part  of  the  time  the  preceding  year  ;  the  Metho- 
dist ministers  on  the  circuit  had  sometimes 
preached  here,  but  for  want  of  encouragement 
had  abandoned  the  place;  there  had  been  also 
Episcopal  and  Presbyterian  and  Baptist  preach- 
ing, and  I  was  informed  that  there  had  been  as 
many  as  ten  unsuccessful  attempts  made  by  min- 
isters of  one  religious  denomination  or  another  to 
sustain  worship  or  establish  a  society  in  the  place. 


122         PRRACHER  AND  PASTOR. 

The  moral  and  religious  reputation  of  the  village 
was  low ;  intemperance,  profanity,  and  disregard 
for  the  Sabbath  were  characteristic  of  Geneva  in 
1841. 

There  was  one  star  of  hope  in  this  night  of 
moral  darkness ;  it  was  the  Geneva  Sunday- 
school. 

A  young  man  from  Cambridge  University  had 
settled  in  the  place,  and  engaged  in  the  duties  of 
the  legal  profession.  Seeing  the  exposed  moral 
condition  of  the  children  of  the  village,  he  en- 
gaged tlie  assistance  of  a  few  friends  and  opened 
a  Sunday-school.  Fearless  of  the  ridicule  that 
might  be  cast  upon  his  enterprise,  and  faithful  to 
his  high  convictions  of  duty,  from  Sabbath  to 
Sabbath,  while  no  religious  society  existed,  and 
no  other  worship  was  held,  he  gathered  his  little 
company  of  children  together  to  impart  to  them 
ideas  of  God  and  Christ  and  eternal  life,  and 
to  endeavor  to  lead  them  into  the  paths  of  virtue 
and  religion.  On  my  first  visit  to  Geneva  in 
1840,  I  found  him  thus  employed,  but  before  my 
return  from  Cambridge  and  the  commencement 
of  my  ministry  here  he  had  been  called  by  the 
providence  of  God  to  a  higher  sphere,  and  his 


PREACH KR    AM)    PASTOR.  123 

Sunday-school  was  left  to  be  sustained  by  other 
hands  and  hearts.  His  dust  hallows  our  burial- 
ground,  and  the  name  of  Caleb  A.  Buckingham 
is  and  will  be  hallowed  in  the  hearts  of  that 
band  of  teachers  who  were  associated  with  him, 
and  will  in  many  others  who  knew  him  kindle 
emotions  of  reverence  for  moral  worth,  and  grati- 
tude for  the  exhibition  of  a  pure  and  cheerful 
and  benevolent  faith  in  a  consistent  life,  wliile 
our  early  history  shall  remain.  The  Sunday- 
school  and  the  efforts  put  forth  in  establishing  and 
sustaining  it  were  the  most  hopeful  appearances 
of  moral  and  religious  life  and  progress  in  the 
place.  One  thing  there  was  to  commend  it  to 
the  consideration  of  a  Christian  minister,  —  ther? 
was  great  need  of  this  kind  of  work.  For  m) 
own  encouragement,  and  as  an  indication  that  it 
might  be  my  appropriate  sphere  of  labor,  thf» 
Sunday-school  had  been  started  and  was  sus 
tained  chiefly  by  those  of  the  same  denomina- 
tional faith.  A  few  Unitarians  were  here,  and 
they  were  anxious  to  have  a  minister,  and  will- 
ing  to  do  what  they  could  for  his  support. 

It  was  with    the   expectation    of  labor  under 
circumstances  of  difficulty  and    discouragement 


124  PREACHER    AND    PASTOR. 

that  I  came  here,  and  I  endeavored  to  prepare 
my  mind  in  the  outset  to  meet  them,  and,  if  such 
might  be  the  will  of  God,  to  overcome  them  by 
patient  and  persevering  effort. 

From  this  view  of  the  religious  condition  of 
things  at  the  time  of  my  coming  we  will  pass  to 
consider  the  leading  objects  of  my  ministry. 

The  principal  ends  I  have  kept  in  view  have 
been  the  moral  and  religious  reformation  and 
improvement  of  the  people,  to  promote  intelli- 
gence and  virtue,  morality  and  piety,  the  exer- 
cise of  Christian  charity  among  those  of  different 
sects,  and  of  peace  and  good-will  in  the  neigh- 
borhood and  family  relations  of  life.  Wliile 
sincerely  believing  that  our  own  religious  views 
are  best  suited  to  produce  the  most  exalted  per- 
fection of  character,  I  think  I  can  say  with  truth 
that  I  have  never  sought  to  abridge  in  the  slight- 
est degree  the  freedom  and  usefulness  of  those 
who  have  entertained  different  opinions,  but  on 
the  contrary  have  as  far  as  possible  endeavored 
to  co-operate  with  them  in  every  good  work,  and 
have  wished  them  success  in  the  way  of  well-doing. 

It  has  not  been  the  great  object  of  my  efforts 
to  multiply  conversions  to  a  sect,  but  rather  to 


PREACHER  AND  PASTOR.  125 

enlighten  the  understandings,  and  purify  and 
expand  and  elevate  the  affections  of  my  people, 
and  to  form  their  characters  after  the  teaching 
and  example  of  Christ.  I  have  endeavored  to 
keep  in  view  the  purpose  of  the  gospel  expressed 
by  the  apostle,  when  he  says  in  reference  to  Jesus, 
*'  Whom  we  preach,  warning  every  man  and  teach- 
ing every  man  in  all  wisdom  that  we  may  present 
every  man  perfect  in  Christ  Jesus."  Perfection 
of  character  according  to  the  standard  of  the 
sermon  on  the  mount,  and  of  the  example  and 
life  of  Christ,  is  the  end  and  aim  which  every 
man  should  propose  to  himself,  and  for  the  pro- 
motion of  which  among  his  people  every  minister 
of  Christ  should  devote  his  chief  energy  and 
effort,  because  to  make  men  righteous  is  a  more 
glorious  and  blessed  work  than  the  upbuilding 
of  a  sect  or  the  attainment  of  any  object  of 
earthly  ambition.  Such  have  been  my  views 
and  aims  in  my  work.  My  chief  regret  in  the 
retrospect  of  the  past  is  that  they  have  not  been 
more  single  and  distinct  and  more  faithfully  and 
earnestly  pursued. 

From  this  brief  and  general  statement  of  the 
leading  objects  of  my  ministry,  we  will  pass  to 


126  PREACHER   AND   PASTOR. 

consider,  the  methods  by  which  I  have  sought, 
and  we  have  labored  together,  for  the  attain- 
ment of  these  ends.  After  having  preached 
here  six  or  eight  months,  I  felt  the  necessity  of 
uniting  all  who  were  friendly  to  the  objects  we 
had  in  view  in  a  religious  society.  To  accom- 
plish this,  it  was  necessary  to  have  a  broad  basis 
of  union.  A  declaration  of  principles  common 
to  all  Cliristians  —  such  as  belief  in  the  fatherly 
character  of  God,  and  in  the  divine  mission  of 
Christ,  and  in  the  sacred  Scriptures  as  a  rule  of 
life,  and  containing  a  statement  of  the  object  of 
association  to  be  the  promotion  of  "  practical 
godliness  in  the  world,  and  aiding  each  other  in 
moral  and  religious  improvement  "  —  was  drawn 
up,  and  about  twenty  signatures  obtained.  This 
was  the  first  movement  toward  the  organization 
of  our  society. 

On  the  29th  of  May,  1842,  we  observed,  for 
the  first  time  in  Geneva,  the  ordinance  of  bap- 
tism and  the  Supper,  and  on  the  25th  of  June 
the  organization  of  the  "  First  Christian  Congre- 
gation of  Geneva"  was  completed.  In  this  organ- 
ization we  endeavored  to  suit  our  methods  to 
our   aims.      Seeking   to   promote   righteousness 


PREACHER  AND  PASTOR.  12T 

rather  than  the  interests  of  party  or  sect,  and  by 
making  our  basis  broad  enough  for  all  Christians, 
we  hoped  to  enlist  the  sympathies  and  secure-  the 
co-operation  of  all  friends  of  Christianity. 

Soon  after  the  organization  of  the  society,  we 
began  to  feel  the  need  of  a  more  commodious 
place  for  public  worship.  The  old  court-house, 
where  we  held  our  meetings  in  summer,  was  un- 
furnished with  a  stove  and  so  was  uncomfortable 
for  winter.  We  sometimes  met  in  the  basement 
of  what  is  now  the  American  House,  and  some- 
times in  a  building  on  the  east  side  of  the  river, 
which  had  been  used  as  an  establishment  for  rec- 
tifying whiskey.  Sometimes  we  were  nearly 
frozen  during  the  services,  and  at  others  nearly 
blinded  and  suffocated  with  smoke.  We  at 
length  made  known  our  condition  and  wants,,  by 
correspondence  and  through  the  "  Christian  Regis- 
ter," to  our  friends  in  New  England,  and  received 
from  the  Unitarian  society  in  Roxbury  eight  hun- 
dred dollars,  to  aid  us  in  building  the  church 
in  which  we  now  worship,  and  one  hundred  and 
fifteen  dollars  to  go  toward  the  support  of  the 
minister  while  the  society  was  engaged  in  building 
the  house.     The  passession  of  this  house  has  aided 


128  PREACHER    AND    PASTOR. 

US  ill  our  work  in  many  ways.  It  has  removed 
the  discouraging  impression  that  our  efforts  were 
soon  to  prove  a  failure.  It  has  not  only  met  our 
own  want  of  a  commodious  place  of  worship,  but 
has  given  us  an  opportunity  to  afford  some  ac- 
commodation to  our  Methodist  brethren  previous 
to  the  erection  of  their  house,  and  also  to  give  to 
our  Presbyterian  friends  a  place  for  gathering 
and  organizing  the  society.  Having  this  house, 
we  have  been  enabled  to  show  by  our  acts  the 
sincerity  of  our  professions  of  good-will  toward 
all  who  are  endeavoring  to  promote  the  moral 
and  religious  improvement  and  welfare  of  the 
community. 

Our  Sunday-school  has  from  the  first  been  one 
of  the  principal  methods  employed  for  accom- 
plishing the  objects  we  have  in  view.  We  have 
sought  to  make  it  a  school  for  instruction  in 
Christian  knowledge  and  virtue,  and  not  a  nur- 
sery of  sectarian  prejudice  and  exclusiveness. 

Teachers  and  scholars  from  all  denominations 
have  been  welcomed  with  a  like  cordiality  to  co- 
operation in  the  work  of  instruction,  and  to 
enjoyment  of  the  privileges  of  the  school.  By 
this  method  we  liave  sought  to  promote  the  prin- 


PREACHER    AND   PASTOR.  129 

ciples  of  an  enlarged  Christian  charity,  in  the 
rising  generation,  and  to  cultivate  respectful  and 
friendly  feelings  among  those  educated  in  different 
forms  of  faith. 

In  my  preaching  I  have  endeavored  to  unite 
instruction  with  exhortation  and  to  present  the 
claims  both  of  morality  and  piety.  I  have  given 
expository  lectures  on  various  parts  of  the  sacred 
Scriptures.  I  have  given  series  of  discourses  on 
doctrinal  subjects,  and  have  frequently  presented 
the  claims  upon  our  attention  of  the  leading  re- 
forms of  the  day,  —  Freedom,  Peace,  and  Tem- 
perance. I  find  on  looking  over  my  discourses 
that  I  have  preached  often  upon  the  goodness  of 
God,  his  presence  and  providence  as  motives  to 
piety,  and  that  I  have  dwelt  much  upon  the 
character  and  work  of  Christ.  My  preaching 
has  not  been  entirely  without  system,  but  it  has 
been  a  good  deal  varied  by  circumstances,  and 
dependent  for  its  character  upon  what  seemed  at 
the  time  to  be  most  needed. 

Among  our  best  methods  I  must  notice  the 
social  conversation  meetings  for  the  study  of  the 
Scriptures.  I  was  conscious  of  receiving  more 
benefit    from   these    meetings   while    they    were 


130  PREACHER   AND   PASTOR. 

held  than  from  almost  anything  else  in  which 
we  have  engaged.  It  gave  me  a  knowledge  of 
the  wants  of  my  people,  and  a  feeling  of  interest 
in  them,  and  of  confidence  in  their  sympathy, 
and  of  faith  in  the  earnestness  of  their  good  pui:- 
poses,  which  I  had  not  before  felt,  and  I  cannot 
refrain  from  expressing  a  hope  that  we  may  be 
able  to  have  something  of  the  kind  again.  I 
should  perhaps  also  mention  the  ladies'  sewing- 
circle  among  the  methods  employed  for  pro- 
moting the  objects  of  our  society.  Their  meet- 
ings have  not  only  been  occasions  for  the  culture 
of  the  social  affections,  but  have  furnished  the 
means  to  adorn  and  to  enlighten  this  outer  sanc- 
tuary of  our  devotions.  From  time  to  time,  wo 
have  met  at  the  table  of  Christian  communion  to 
commemorate  Christ's  dying  love,  and  strengthen 
the  ties  of  holy  sympathy  and  affection  by  which 
we  are  made  one  body,  and  connected  with  the 
one  Head  of  tlie  Church  on  earth  and  in  heaven. 
In  the  use  of  these  various  methods  for  the  ac- 
complishment of  the  objects  of  our  existence  as  a 
society,  we  may  not  at  all  times  have  been  as 
single-hearted  and  earnest  and  faithful  as  we 
ought  to  have  been,  but  I  trust  that  our  efforts 


PREACHER  AND  PASTOR.         131 

have  not  altogether  failed  of  bringing  the  bless- 
ings of  Christianity  to  our  own  hearts  and  to  the 
community  in  which  we  live.  From  this  view  of 
our  methods  let  us  pass  to  consider  (fourthly) 
the  results. 

From  the  nature  of  the  leading  objects  we 
have  had  in  view,  and  of  the  methods  we  have 
employed,  much  of  the  results  are  of  a  kind 
which  lie  beyond  the  sphere  of  human  observa- 
tion. 

Denominational  statistics  are  easily  made  out  ; 
but  the  statistics  of  thought  and  affection,  of 
spiritual  growth  and  improvement,  of  the  moral 
and  religious  progress  of  a  community,  are  not  so 
easily  obtained.  The  visible  results  of  a  work 
which  has  to  do  mainly  with  things  invisible  may 
be  apparently  small,  and  yet  the  real  influence 
and  ultimate  effects  may  be  of  great  importance. 

If  we  look  at  the  moral  and  religious  condition 
of  this  community  as  it  was  ten  years  ago,  and 
compare  it  with  the  present,  we  shall  discover  a 
marked  change  for  the  better.  Idleness,  intem- 
perance, and  other  forms  of  immorality  and  irre- 
ligion  can,  by  comparison,  hardly  be  said  to  exist 
among  us.     Instead  of  the  sectarian  strife  which 


132  PREACHER   AND   PASTOR. 

in  many  communities  is  disturbing  the  peace  of 
society,  we  are  dwelling  together  in  peace  and 
good-will,  our  denominational  relations  causing 
no  more  contention  than  the  circumstance  that 
we  have  each  our  own  family  and  home. 

Methodists,  Presbyterians,  and  Unitarians  not 
only  join  hands  for  the  promotion  of  temperance 
and  other  reforms,  but  labor  together  in  the  Sab- 
bath-school, meet  together  for  worship,  and  sit 
together  about  the  table  of  our  common  Lord. 

We  may  not  claim  the  honor  of  having  done 
all  this  work  of  reform  and  improvement;  but 
we  may  justly  claim  to  have  done  a  share  of  it. 
Our  efforts  have  contributed  to  the  general  re- 
sult. We  may  not  have  accomplished  as  much 
in  some  directions  as  we  hoped  to  do ;  we  may 
not  have  done  as  well  in  anything  as  we  wish  and 
desire,  or  as  well  as  we  ought  to  liave  done  ;  but 
still  we  have,  through  the  blessing  of  God,  accom- 
plished something  for  which  we  should  be  grate- 
ful to  him,  and  something  which  should  encour- 
age us  to  persevere  with  increased  confidence  and 
zeal  in  the  way  of  well-doing. 

We  have  in  our  immediate  vicinity  overcome, 
in  a  great  degree,  the  prejudice  which  did  at  first 


PREACHER   AND  PASTOR.  133 

exist,  aud  which,  at  a  little  distance  from  and 
around  us,  still  exists  against  our  faith.  We  have 
thus  prepared  the  way  for  doing  more  good,  for 
extending  the  knowledge  of  tlie  truth  and  the 
spirit  of  charity  more  widely  around  us.  As  we 
each  look  within,  and  look  back  upon  the  ten 
years  of  life  that  have  passed  since  we  first  sus- 
tained the  relation  of  pastor  and  people,  we  doubt- 
less feel  in  some  degree  conscious  of  coming  short 
of  a  life  in  perfect  accordance  with  our  faith 
and  purpose.  But  to  me,  and  I  hope  to  you,  the 
relation  has  been  pleasant  and  profitable.  We 
may  not  have  derived  all  the  benefit  from  the  re- 
lation which  we  might  have  done,  but  I  trust  it 
has  been  mutually  a  blessing,  for  the  continu- 
ance of  which,  through  some  trials  and  difficul- 
ties and  discouragements,  we  may  justly  be  grate- 
ful to  God. 

Commencing  my  ministry  here  with  little 
preparation,  and  no  experience,  and  with  no 
elder  brethren  of  the  profession  near  with  whom 
to  counsel,  and  partaking  of  the  imperfections 
common  to  humanity,  I  now  look  back  upon 
many  mistakes  and  errors,  imperfections  and 
faults,  for  which  I  have  needed  the  forbearance 


134  PREACHER   AND   PASTOR. 

and  forgiveness  of  my  people.  That  you  have 
not  failed  to  exercise  such  forbearance  and  kind- 
ness is  cause  of  gratitude  and  affection. 

He  to  whom  much  has  been  forgiven  may  very 
properly  love  much.  Other  ties  bind  us  strongly 
together. 

At  the  marriage  altar  we  have  sought  the 
blessing  of  God  upon  the  holiest  and  strongest 
affections  of  earth.  We  have  knelt  together  in 
the  house  of  mourning,  to  offer  the  prayer  of 
submission  and  faith,  and  seek  comfort  and  sup- 
port from  the  Father  of  spirits.  In  connection 
with  this  subject,  our  thoughts  turn  naturally  to 
one  whose  name  stands  first  on  the  list  of  mem- 
bers of  our  society,  —  a  man  upon  whose  wisdom 
and  integrity,  upon  whose  deep  interest  in  every- 
thing pertaining  to  the  moral  welfare  of  society, 
we  all  felt  the  strongest  reliance  ;  the  man  to 
whom  we  looked  for  sympathy,  and  went  for  coun- 
sel, and  on  whom  we  leaned  for  support,  was  taken 
away.  In  the  experience  of  such  a  loss,  we  have 
a  mutual  feeling  of  bereavement  and  sympathy 
in  sorrow,  which  is  a  strong  bond  of  attachment 
to  each  other. 

We  have  for  these  ten  years  been  together  in 


PREACHER    AND   PASTOR.  135 

joy  and  sorrow.  We  have  encountered  difficulty 
and  borne  trial  and  discouragement.  The  result 
is  that  we  know  each  other  better  and  love  each 
other  more  than  it  would  be  possible  for  us  to 
know  and  love  strangers.  Should  God,  in  his 
mercy,  permit  us  to  continue  our  relation  and 
labors  for  ten  years  more,  we  may  hope,  from  the 
experience  of  the  past,  and  the  advantages  we 
have  gained,  to  do  more  and  better  than  we  have 
heretofore  done. 

Circumstances  may  occur  which  will  make  it 
expedient  and  necessary  for  us  voluntarily  to  dis- 
solve the  connection  we  have  held,  but  such  a 
separation  would  be  the  severing  of  many  strong 
and  holy  ties.  God  willing,  I  would  prefer  to  do 
my  work  of  life  where  I  have  begun.  I  am  sorry 
not  to  have  done  more  and  better  in  the  com- 
mencement ;  but  with  regard  to  past  errors  and 
deficiencies,  we  may  as  well  follow  the  example 
of  the  great  apostle  in  ''  forgetting  the  things 
that  are  behind,  and  reaching  forth  towards  those 
which  are  before." 

The  day  is  hastening  when  we  must  each  give 
account  of  our  stewardship  before  God.  For  the 
use  of  all  liis  gifts,  for  the  improvement  of  all 


136 


PREACHER    AND    PASTOR. 


our  privileges  and  opportunities  of  growth  in  vir- 
tue and  of  doing  good,  we  must  give  account. 

May  we  find  mercy  with  him  for  our  past  de- 
ficiencies, and  in  our  future  life  be  found  faithful 
in  that  day. 


VIII. 

TRANSPLANTED    AND    WHAT    THEN. 

There  was  at  once  a  new  interest  and  genuine 
sorrow  in  the  church  at  Geneva  when  Mr. 
Conant  resigned  his  charge  and  prepared  to 
leave  them.  The  old  deep  human  ties  that 
hold  their  own,  often,  thank  God,  against  the 
most  dreadful  strain  of  political  difference,  began 
to  be  felt  everywhere.  The  strong,  sweet  words 
that  had  drawn  these  friends  to  him,  who  still 
could  not  be  reconciled  to  his  position  on  the 
most  momentous  question  of  the  age,  began  to 
tell,  and  the  holy,  earnest  life  he  had  led  among 
them  for  sixteen  years  had  brought  an  influence 
of  its  own  that  could  not  be  shred  away  even 
by  the  mighty  sword  that  had  come  through 
Christ  to  di'vide  them. 

And  so  I  am  prepared  to  believe  that  in  the 
''  resolutions,"  which  were  of  course  got  out  as 
such  things  always  are,  —  though  there  be  noth- 


138  TRANSPLANTED    AND    WHAT   THEN. 

ing  at  the  heart  of  them  but  the  ashes  of  a  dead 
fire, —  were  in  this  case  the  heart-felt  expression 
of  a  pure  regard  and  prayer,  as  they  proceed  to 
tell  how,  during  sixteen  years,  their  minister  has 
endeared    himself  to  their   hearts  as  a   faitlit'ul 
preacher  and   kind  friend,  and  at  liis  departure 
retains    their   confidence,  respect,  and  affection  ; 
how  the  great  resources  of  his  mind  and  manly 
independence  and  energy  of  character  have  done 
much  to  advance  the  whole  interest  of  the  com- 
munity, and    so,  wherever  he  may  go,  they  will 
send  their  best  wishes  after  him,  and  will  keep 
in  their  hearts  the   recollection  of  his   faithful- 
ness, goodness,  kindness  to  the  poor,  and  noble 
social   qualities.      All    this    they    say    while   op- 
pressed  with   sadness   at    their    separation,   yet 
glad  also  that,  as  this  must  be,  he   is   to  enter 
a  wider  field   of  usefulness,  and   commend  him 
to  the  Christian  sympathy  of  his    new    charge. 
For  the  rest  I  must  drop  the  veil. 

The  Fattens  and  other  fast  friends  of  that  fine 
grain,  —  friends  who  had  never  wavered  or  al- 
tered, but  had  clung  to  their  minister  through 
all,  as  is  the  fashion  of  those  that  are  nurtured 
at   the  West   Church    in  Boston,  from  the   old 


TRANSPLANTED    AND    WHAT   THEN.  139 

days  of  Dr.  Majliew  to  these  new  days  of  Dr.  Bar- 
tol, —  what  they  felt  and  said  and  did  that  was 
tender  and  true  and  generous  can  only  be  written 
in  that  other  book  which  is  the  Book  of  Life. 

So,  on  Sunday  the  12th  July,  1857,  Mr.  Co- 
nant,  going  to  Rockford,  preached  there  his  first 
sermon  as  pastor  of  the  church  to  a  congrega- 
tion of  about  seventy. 

And  the  prospects  of  the  society  opened  well ;  in 
possession  of  a  beautiful  place  for  worship,  with 
members  in  the  church  not  to  be  surpassed  by  any 
within  the  knowledge  of  the  writer,  in  any  church, 
and  with  a  strong  desire  to  go  onward  and  do  good, 
the  people  received  their  new  minister  with  the 
warmest  welcome.  Yery  soon  eleven  new  mem- 
bers were  added  to  the  church  ;  on  the  first 
Sunday  in  April,  1858,  twenty  more  ;  on  the 
80th  of  May,  ten  more.  There  was  a  constant 
ripple  of  revival  in  the  best  and  most  living  in- 
terests of  the  congregation.  Things  were  got  into 
good  order,  a  Sunday-school  society  formed  to 
take  care  of  the  Sunday-school,  and  other  socie- 
ties as  they  were  needed  to  oversee  other  in- 
terests, and  everything  was  bright  witli  promise. 
And  in  these  days  he  is  to  be  traced  to  Chicago, 


140  TRANSPLANTED    AND  WHAT   THEN. 

busy  in  the  ordination  of  George  Noyes  as  pastor 
over  the  church  there,  to  Cincinnati,  wliere  the 
Western  Conference  was  held  in  1858,  notable  to 
the  writer  of  this  chapter,  if  to  nobody  else,  as  the 
time  when  Dr.  Furness,  of  Philadelphia,  who  had 
made  him  out  and  said  kind  and  encouraging 
things  to  him,  invited  him  also  to  preach  in  his 
pulpit  wliile  he  himself  should  go  to  the  confer- 
ence. After  a  time,  also,  Mr.  Conant  went  to 
Geneva  to  preach  on  an  exchange  with  Mr.  Wood- 
ward, their  minister  ;  found  that  the  disaffection 
that  liad  been  felt  by  a  few  toward  him  was 
wholly  gone,  and  he  was  received  with  the  most 
perfect  cordiality  and  affection  by  everybody. 

But  the  tree  was  too  old  to  transplant.  It  be- 
gan to  be  felt,  after  perhaps  two  years,  that  there 
was  dearth  and  drought  in  the  movement,  that 
things  were  not  prosperous.  "  It  is  rather  a  cold, 
dull  time,"  he  says,  sadly,  "  and  I  feel  at  times 
greatly  depressed,  almost  discouraged.  I  seem 
to  accomplish  nothing,  and  feel  sometimes  that 
I  am  not  fit  for  a  minister  ;  and  if  I  could  do  it 
with  a  clear  conscience,  I  would  gladly  return 
to  the  plough.     I  know  I  ought  to  brace   up  like 


TRANSPLANTED    AND    WHAT   THEN.  141 

a  man ;  but  I  do  get  soul  heavy  sometimes,  and 
feel  like  saying  Die." 

The  truth  was  that  he  was  hurt  by  the  change 
from  the  old  field  to  the  new  more  than  he  could 
imagine.  It  was  impossible  that  a  nature  so 
deep-rooted,  and  with  so  many  delicate  and  ten- 
der rootlets  netting  bis  whole  life  to  Geneva 
should  not  be  damaged  fearfully  by  being  torn 
out  after  so  long  a  time,  and  put  down  where 
everything  has  to  grow  afresh  as  it  can.  Per- 
haps he  ought  never  to  have  left.  Who  shall 
say  that,  except  they  can  know  what  had  come 
of  his  staying  ?  Only  this  we  can  say,  if  we 
will  watch  tlie  lessons  of  the  ministry  as  they  are 
open  to  us  everywhere,  —  tliat  as  a  rule  the  worst 
mistake  a  minister  can  make  is  to  leave  the 
parish  in  which  he  has  been  long  at  work  and 
through  wliich  he  has  established  himself  as  a 
living  power,  and  go  to  a  new  place.  Generally 
an  able  minister,  if  he  be  in  middle  life,  is  only 
able  tlirough  tlie  accumulation  of  what  is  best  of 
his  life  and  power  in  those  that  have  got  the 
grace  and  glory  of  his  youth.  Put  him  then, 
where  everything  is  strange,  and  according  to  the 
very  excellence  and  nobility  of  his  nature  may 


142  TRANSPLANTED   AND    WHAT   THEN. 

be  his  failure  to  connect.  Widows  and  widowers 
do  not  often  even  pretend  to  be  to  each  other, 
if  they  marry,  what  the  husband  and  wife  are 
who,  as  youth  and  maiden,  fell  in  love,  and  have 
grown  more  loving  in  all  the  succeeding  years. 
There  are  notable  exceptions,  but  that  is  the 
rule  ;  but  the  good  men  and  women  at  Rockford 
were  true  to  their  minister.  Men  like  Melanc- 
thon  Starr  and  Roger  Fowler  and  E.  H.  Griggs 
spared  notiiing  of  their  means  and  labor  to  push 
the  ark  onward.  And  there  was  cheerfulness 
and  a  quick  life  in  it.  I  went  there  in  those 
days  for  the  first  time,  and  can  remember  how 
well  pleased  I  was  with  the  expressions  of 
esteem  I  heard  on  all  sides  for  Mr.  Conant. 
I  have  felt  that  the  following  might  go  in  and 
help  make  up  the  tale  of  the  kindly  Rockford 
life. 

A   PLEASANT   INCIDENT. 
To  the  Editor  of  the  Christian  Inquirer: 

I  want  to  tell  you  of  a  very  pleasant  interlude 
to  the  war  fever,  which  occurred  at  Rockford,  on 
tjie  J3tli  of  May,  in  the  evening.  Rockford  is  a 
plac^  of  exceeding  beauty,  from  its  situation  on 


TRANSPLANTED    AND   WHAT   THEN.  143 

the  Rock  River,  its  position  as  the  centre  of  a 
rich  farming  country,  and  at  this  time  because  it 
is  buried  in  l)lossom.  How  old  a  place  it  is,  no 
one  can  tell.  There  are  mounds  on  the  banks  of 
the  river  whicii  seem  to  have  been  the  first  rude 
ideas  of  the  pyramids,  and  out  of  which  you  can 
dig  pottery  and  other  relics,  together  with  the 
bones  of  those  for  whose  sake  they  were  buried, 
and  the  monuments  were  painfully  raised  over 
them.  I  suppose  the  owners  of  these  bones  must 
have  been  of  the  first  families  in  Rockford,  and 
notable  enough  in  their  day ;  but  that  day  was 
so  long  since,  that  even  their  ghosts  seem  to  have 
died.  (Did  you  ever  think  of  the  fact  that 
ghosts  do  die,  after  a  time  ?)  How  completely 
these  old  kings  liave  abdicated  was  illustrated 
to  me,  while  talking  with  a  gentleman  of  the 
town  about  those  things,  when  he  said  to  his 
wife,  — 

"  My  dear,  where's  that  skull  I  dug  out  of  the 
mound  ?  " 

''  Oh  !  "  said  the  lady,  laughing,  "  some  one 
let  it  fall,  and  it  crumbled  all  away  ;  so  I  swept 
it  out  of  doors." 


144  TRAxNSPLANTED    AND    WHAT    THEN. 

And  that  was  the  last  on  eartli  of  the  "  stoic  of 
the  woods,  —  the  man  without  a  tear." 

Rockford  is  of  interest  to  us,  also,  in  the  fact 
that  tliere  is  in  it  an  earnest  band  of  liberal 
Christians.  They  have  a  good  church,  built  of 
a  fine  yellow  limestone ;  a  good  society,  though 
not  very  large  ;  and  a  good  pastor,  Rev.  X.  H. 
Conant.  Brother  Conant  is  a  wine  that  needs 
no  bush  to  tlie  readers  of  the  "  Inquirer,"  East  or 
"West ;  but  I  must  tell  you  what  I  saw  in  the  par- 
sonage on  that  Monday  evening.  The  parson 
looks  about  thirty-four  years  of  age  ;  his  good 
wife,  thirty,  or,  by'r  lady,  thirty-one.  They  were 
possessed,  somehow,  with  the  idea  that  they  had 
been  married  twenty-five  years  ;  and  as  there 
were  two  handsome  young  gentlemen  and  a  lady, 
who  claimed  to  be  their  children,  but  seemed  to 
be  their  brothers  and  sister,  the  parish  had  to  give 
in,  and  believe  that  they  must  be  a  great  deal 
older  than  they  seemed,  and  give  them  a  silver 
wedding.  Of  course,  there  was  a  silver  shower, 
and  Mistress  Conant's  two  or  three  troubles  took 
the  form  of  casters.  The  friends  came  together, 
and  a  very  pleasant  company  they  were.  CoU- 
yer,  from   Chicago,  extemporized  a  service,  the 


TRANSPLANTED    AND    WHAT    THEN.  145 

children    standing   with    the    parents.     He    said 
tliat  this  happy  meeting  was  well  fitted  to  bear 
out  a  deep  conviction  of  his  life,  —  that  all  true 
loves   and  matches  and  marriages  were  the  re- 
sult of  divine  inspiration  and  appointment ;  such 
matches  were  made  in  heaven  ;  that  it  was  a  dou- 
ble blessing  for  a  minister  to  have  a  good  wife, 
because  he  was  so   often  called  to  unite  others, 
and  if  his  own  marriage  were  unhappy,  it  would 
be  an  ever-fresh  misery  to  feel  that  he  might  be 
helping  to  fasten  others  to  misery,  but  an  ever- 
fresh  joy  when  his  own  life  was  a  joy  ;  that  be- 
fore tlie   time   of  their   golden  wedding   should 
come,  both  these  dear  friends  might  have  gone 
over  the  golden  river ;  but  there  came  a  double 
blessing  even  in   that,  —  they  would  leave   good 
children  to  take  their  place,  and  be  reunited  in 
the  holier  love,  where  man  and  wife  are  as  the 
angels   of  God.     So,   with    a   simple    prayer,  in 
which  all  joined,  the  wedding  came  to  an  end  ; 
then  congratulations,  cake,  and  wine,  music,  sing- 
ing, a  little   dancing,  and  we   parted,  all   asking 
that  these  dear  friends  and  devoted  servants  of 
the  Master,  who  have  been  faithful  as  pastor  and 
pastor's  wife  for  twenty  years    to  liberal   Chris- 
10 


146     TRANSPLANTED  AND  WF  \T  THEN. 

tiauity  in  the  West,  might  still,  for  a  long  life  te 
come,  be  spared  for  the  work,  and  abound  n^o%Q 
and  more  in  all  wisdom  and  goodness  as  the] 
have  abounded. 

It  was  not  long  after  this  that  a  Cininon-sho^ 
struck  the  ark  of  the  covenant  at  Fort  Sumter, 
and  brought  the  West  to  her  feet  in  a  might} 
passion  of  indignation  and  tears.  Then  the 
hymns  given  out  to  be  sung  were  "  When  Israel 
of  the  Lord  beloved  "  and  ''  My  country,  'tis  of 
thee  ; "  and  the  text  for  the  sermon  was  "  Jesus 
said  but  now  he  that  has  no  sword  let  him  sell 
his  garment  and  buy  one."  And  the  anthem 
was,  "  The  star-spangled  banner,"  and  the  altar 
cloth  was  the  flag  that  the  rebel  was  determined 
to  destroy,  and  the  true  man  determined  to  de 
fend.  The  appeal  was  to  the  Lord  of  Hosts 
The  end  had  come,  and  the  beginning,  and  ther 
in  a  day,  through  the  darkness  and  fire,  God 
opened  a  way  by  which  his  faithful  servant  should 
do  the  crowning  work  of  his  life,  and  enter  into 
his  eternal  joy. 


IX. 

FROM     ROCKFORD     TO     HIS     REST. 

Early  in  July,  1861,  Mr.  Conant,  having  re- 
signed his  charge  in  Rockford,  came  to  Chica- 
go, proposing  to  go  out  as  chaplain,  if  he  could 
find  a  chaplaincy,  and  anxious,  if  possible,  to  get 
that  of  the  19th  Illinois  regiment  under  the  com- 
mand of  Colonel  Turchin,  because  he  thought  it 
would  give  him  plenty  to  do  and  the  officers  were 
men  he  would  prefer  to  serve  with.  I  remem- 
ber going  with  him  to  see  Mr.  Augustus  Burley, 
of  our  city,  his  old  and  fast  friend,  whose  children 
had  boarded  at  the  little  Geneva  parsonage,  and 
whose  services  to  our  city  and  country  in  the  war 
were  singularly  noble  and  unselfish.  Mr.  Burley 
gladly  exerted  himself  to  get  Mr.  Conant  th(? 
post  he  wanted,  and  the  matter  was  so  far  ar 
ranged  that,  on  the  22d  of  that  month,  he  writes 
to  his  father,  "  I  expect  to  start  this  afternoon  to 
join  the  19th  Illinois,  now  in  Missouri,  with  a 


148  FROM    ROCKFORD   TO    HIS   REST. 

strong  hope  of  obtaining  the  chaplaincy  of  that 
regiment.  Letters  recommending  me  for  the 
post  have  been  sent  forward  to  the  colonel  and 
other  officers,  and  now  I  have  concluded  to  go 
myself  and  attend  to  the  matter  in  person." 

The  application  was  successful.  On  the  2d 
of  August  he  writes  to  his  wife  from  the  steam- 
boat ''  Empress,"  off  Cape  Giradeau,  how  he  is 
rejoicing  in  the  thought  that,  with  a  thousand 
young  men  for  his  parish  and  congregation 
he  may  be  able  to  do  quite  as  much  for  the 
moral  and  spiritual  elevation  of  man  as  he  had 
done  at  Rockford.  "If  it  is  best,"  he  contin- 
ues, "  that  I  should  live  and  work  in  this  way 
for  afeiv  years  until  the  war  is  over,  I  shall  feel 
secure  in  the  divine  protection  ;  but  if  it  is  the 
will  of  God  that  I  should  finish  my  course  in 
the  cause  of  freedom  and  humanity,  I  hope, 
dear  wife,  you  will  accept  that  termination  to 
my  life  as  the  best,  trusting  in  the  wisdom  and 
love  of  our  Father." 

So  the  good  man  came  in  this  spirit  to  the  last 
work  he  was  to  do  this  side  heaven,  as  cheerful, 
hearty,  and  hopeful,  as  he  was  when  he  had 
written  what  bright  days  they  were  twenty-five 


FROM    ROCKFORD   TO    HIS   REST.  149 

years  before  at  his  wedding.  "  I  am  well,"  he 
says,  "  as  ever  I  was,  sleep  soundly  on  the  soft 
side  of  a  plank,  and  ready  for  whatever  may 
come." 

It  would  be  a  shame  now,  I  think,  to  write 
any  words  that  should  take  the  place  of  Mr. 
Conant's  own.  I  propose,  therefore,  through  the 
rest  of  this  chapter,  to  print  such  parts  of  his 
letters  as  will  tell  this  story  as  it  came  out  of 
the  head  and  heart  of  the  good  man  day  by  day, 
omitting  nothing,  I  believe,  of  an  important  or 
curious  interest,  while  omitting  much  relating 
to  private  and  tender  domestic  concerns,  only 
meant  for  the  most  loving  eyes,  to  him,  on  the 
planet. 

EXTRACTS   FROM   LETTERS    OP    1861. 

(To  Ms  Wife.) 

FIRST  SERMON  IN  CAMP. 

Aug.  4:th.  I  have  just  been  preaching  to  the 
soldiers  from  the  top  of  a  large  sycamore  log. 
The  regiment  were  not  all  together,  and  1  only 
gave  them  a  short  discourse  on  the  duty  of  man- 
ly endurance  and  mutual  kindness.  I  doubt 
whether  I  ever  spoke  fifteen  minutes  with  better 
moral  effect  in  my  life. 


150  FROM    ROCKFORD   TO    HIS  REST. 

Aug.  11.  Prcaclicd  to  tlie  officers  and  soldiers 
assembled  from  the  text  "  Tliy  kingdom  come/* 
endeavoring  to  show  that  the  war  in  which  we 
are  engaged  is  a  practical  utterance  of  this 
prayer,  and  ought  to  be  carried  on  by  us  in  a 
worthy  and  manly  way. 

(To  his  Wife.) 
DISPOSITION   TO    MAKE   THE   BEST   OF    HIS   CIRCUM- 
STANCES. 

Aug.  20.  To-day  I  obtained  a  candle  box  of 
the  commissary,  and  with  a  hatchet  and  my 
pocket-knife  have  made  of  it  a  writing-desk,  and 
I  also  obtained  of  the  sappers  and  miners  a  board, 
some  nails,  and  the  use  of  a  saw  and  plane,  and. 
made  a  bench  to  sit  upon.  Now  I  am  sitting  be- 
fore the  door  of  my  tent  with  my  new  desk  on 
one  end  of  the  bench,  almost  as  well  fixed  as  I 
should  be  in  my  study  chair. 

The  few  ladies  —  officers'  wives  in  camj)  —  are 
worth  more  tlian  a  file  of  soldiers  in  keeping 
order.  I  wisli  we  could  have  twice  as  many  ;  but 
it  is  no  place  for  a  woman  of  delicate  nerves.  The 
most  shocking  sights,  sounds,  and  odors  of  all  sorts 
are  of  perpetual  occurrence,  yet  a  strong-minded 


FROtr    ROCKFORD    TO    HIS   REST.  151 

and  pure-hearted  woman  may  pass  through  it  all 
unliarmed.  Mrs.  Turchin  blooms  like  a  fair 
flower  in  it.  She  reminds  me  very  much  of 
Lucy  Stone  Blackwell.  With  all  the  refinement 
of  a  lady,  she  has  the  energy  and  self-reliance  of 
a  man  ;  she  feels  able  to  take  charge  of  herself, 
carries  a  nice  little  revolver  and  dagger  in  her 
belt,  and  has  a  dignity  of  manner  and  bearing 
that  secures  respect  from  the  roughest  soldier. 

Sept.  25.  I  feel  that  God's  great  providence 
is  over  all,  and  nothing  will  happen  to  me,  or  to 
others,  contrary  to  his  will,  or  which,  on  the 
whole,  is  not  for  the  best.  I  have  no  desire  to 
be  a  victim  of  this  unholy  rebellion,  but  if  I 
should  be  taken  prisoner,  or  lose  my  life,  I  hope 
that  not  only  I  shall  meet  whatever  comes  man- 
fully, but  that  all  my  friends  will  bear  it  with  a 
courage  and  patience  worthy  the  cause.  I  have 
felt  greatly  mortified  and  vexed  at  President 
Lincoln's  interference  with  General  Fremont's 
noble  action,  —  so  much  so  that  I  have  almost 
'egretted  having  joined  the  army.  It  seems  to 
jie  it  will  strengthen  and  encourage  the  rebels 
and  protract  the  war,  and  that  the  North  if  a 
different  policy  is  not  adopted,  will  bo  thoroughly 


152      FROM  ROCKFORD  TO  HIS  REST. 

whipped,  and  I  am  not  sure  but  it  is  the  best 
thing  that  can  happen,  as  a  means  of  making  us 
willing  to  do  justice,  and  make  an  end  of  slavery, 
the  cause  of  all  our  troubles. 

PROTEST  AGAINST  TEMPORIZING  WITH  REBELLION. 

Sept.  26.  If  the  rebels  should  suffer  a  thor- 
ough defeat  in  the  vicinity  of  Washington,  it 
would  probably  hasten  their  expulsion  from 
Kentucky  and  Missouri ;  or  if  the  government 
should  send  a  naval  force  south,  acting  aggres- 
sively instead  of  defensively,  we  may  expect  a 
retreat  of  the  traitors  from  this  neighborhood 
(Lebanon  Junction,  Kentucky).  But  the  miser- 
able temporizing  of  the  government  in  relation 
to  slavery,  and  apparent  fear  of  offending  slave- 
holders, and  the  manoeuvring  to  keep  clear  of  in- 
terference with  the  infernal  institution  which 
is  at  the  bottom  of  all  the  treason,  so  encourages 
the  rebels,  that  it  would  be  no  matter  of  surprise 
if  they  should  defeat  us  half  a  dozen  times, 
and  until  we  are  ready  and  willing  to  carry  on 
the  war  in  earnest,  and  strike  at  the  heart  of 
their  treason.  I  hope  and  pray  that  a  higher 
and  more   earnest  and  righteous   pu^-pose    may 


FROM    ROCKFORD    TO    HIS   REST.  153 

inspire  the  hearts  of  our  people,  that  we  may 
redeem  our  country  from  ruin,  and  make  our 
government  the  support  of  freedom  and  justice 
it  was  designed  to  be  by  its  founders,  and  tliat 
kingdom  of  heaven  for  which  humanity  waits 
with  longing  hope  and  devout  aspiration. 

Sfunday  Evenings  Sept.  28.  You  know,  dear- 
est, how  down-spirited  I  have  usually  been  af- 
ter my  day's  work  on  Sunday.  I  have  been 
thinking  over  my  experiences  this  evening,  and, 
strange  to  say,  for  the  result  of  a  Sunday  evening 
meditation,  1  have  come  to  a  cheerful  conclusion. 
I  do  not  think,  on  the  whole,  that  I  am  much,  if 
any,  more  discontented  here  in  the  army  than  I 
sometimes  felt  in  Geneva  or  in  Rockford.  Men 
did  not  do  as  I  wanted  to  have  them  there,  and 
it  is  the  same  here ;  I  had  times  of  feeling  that 
I  was  laboring  in  vain,  and  I  have  such  times 
here.  But  really  I  am  perhaps  doing  as  much 
good  as  ever  I  did,  or  as  ever  I  shall  do,  and 
gratitude  for  my  opportunities  and  means  of  use- 
fulness is  quite  as  befitting  as  grumbling  and 
discontent  with  my  condition  and  work.  I  think 
on  the  whole,  that  I  have  done  a  fair  day's  w^rk, 
and  that  I  may  hope  for  God's  blessing  on  his 


154  FROM    ROCKFORD   TO    HIS   REST. 

word  of  truth.  The  men  seemed  (when  I 
preached  to-day)  attentive,  interested,  and  grate- 
ful. I  hope  the  seed  sown  will  take  root  and 
bear  good  fruit.  I  should  be  glad  to  be  with 
you,  but  as  it  does  not  seem  the  way  and  will 
of  Divine  Providence,  I  will  try  to  be  contented 
and  happy  where  I  am.  It  used  to  trouble  me 
Ihat  my  salary  and  support  seemed  a  burden  to 
my  people,  but  this  trouble  while  I  am  here  is  at 
an  end.  My  pay  comes  without  grudging  and 
without  stint ;  it  is  a  little  delayed  sometimes,  but 
there  is  no  fear  of  failure  in  the  end.  I  have  rest 
from  hard  study,  and  from  the  task  of  writing  a 
weekly  sermon  whether  inspired  or  not  inspired 
with  a  word  of  truth  from  God,  for  humanity. 
The  rest  is,  in  fact,  in  excess,  and  I  would  like  a 
little  communion  with  my  library  ;  but  I  have 
rocks  and  trees  and  clouds  and  living  men  to  read, 
and  can  get  from  them  precious  lessons,  if  I  am 
an  attentive  student.  It  does  seem  as  though 
with  all  these  things,  and  good  health  and  good 
rations,  a  man  ought  to  be  happy,  and  might 
enjoy  himself,  if  he  had  a  mind  to.  I  suspect 
having  a  mind  to  is  the  chief  thing  in  the  busi- 
ness.    I  mean  to  try  to  have  a  mind  to  and  to 


FROM    ROCKFORD   TO    HIS   REST.  155 

have  a  lieart  to  enjoy  the  good  gifts  of  the  bounti- 
ful Provider  for  human  want  and  welfare.  Then, 
more  than  all  these,  I  have  loved  and  loving  ones 
at  home,  who,  I  hope,  are  bravely  doing  their 
duty  in  this  hour  of  trial  and  peril  to  our  nation. 
I  can  talk  with  honest  pride  of  my  sons  in  the 
army  of  freedom,  and  of  my  heroic  wife  and 
daughter  and  mother  at  home,  taking  care  of 
themselves  and  of  the  little  one  who  bears  an 
honored  name.  Ah !  in  having  such  home 
treasures  I  am  rich,  and  may  well  rejoice. 
It  will  not  seem  long  after  it  is  past,  this 
time  of  separation,  though  counting  the  days  as 
they  pass  one  by  one,  with  no  tidings  from  home 
for  weeks,  it  does  seem  rather  long  and  weari- 
some and  lonely  ;  but  we  will  hope  that  the 
future  has  ample  amends  in  store  for  us. 


Elizabethtown,  Ky.,  Oct.  28th,  1861.  We 
have  had  in  camp  a  Methodist  or  Baptist  ex- 
horter  by  the  name  of  Moody,  sent  out  by  the 
Young  Men's  Christian  Association  of  Chicago, 
who  held  evening  prayer-meetings  in  camp 
several  evenings  of  last  week.     He  was  exceed- 


156  FROM   ROCKFORD   TO    HIS   REST. 

ingly  active  and  earnest  in  his  efforts  to  get  up 
a  revival,  and  evidently  displeased  with  me  for 
not  indorsing  his  proceedings  and  aiding  his  en- 
terprise. I  told  some  of  his  friends  that  it  was 
much  like  what  it  would  be  for  a  pedler  of  patent 
pills  to  come  to  camp  and  propose  to  look  after 
the  health  of  the  regiment,  — to  cure  all  distem- 
pers with  his  pills,  and  all  flesh  wounds  and 
broken  bones  with  Perry  Davis'  Pain  Killer, 
telling  the  soldiers  that  the  treatment  they  were 
receiving  was  unsafe,  and  expecting  the  regi- 
mental physician  and  surgeon  to  indorse  him 
and  aid  his  efforts.  At  his  first  introduction  to 
me,  he  did  not  hesitate  to  intimate  that  what  I 
was  doing  was  of  no  account,  and  one  of  the 
most  evident  results  of  his  efforts  with  those  in 
sympathy  with  him  was  to  produce  in  them  the 
same  impression,  and  lead  them  to  utter  it  and  to 
seek  to  give  it  currency.  One  of  his  zealous  con- 
verts had  the  politeness  to  tell  me  if  I  had  gone 
to  work  as  Moody  did,  half  the  regiment  might 
have  been  converted  before  this.  Last  evening 
one  of  them  went  to  the  colonel  with  a  complaint 
of  my  inefficiency ;  but  the  colonel  told  him  all 
the    regiment   were    not    Methodists,    and    they 


FROM    ROCKFORD    TO    HIS   REST.  157 

could  hardly  expect  a  chaplain  for  every  sect, 
or  one  that  would  be  equally  pleasing  to  all. 
Very  little  satisfaction  will  they  be  likely  to 
get  for  their  complaints  from  him. 

{To  his  Wife.) 
AN   INDOOR   VIEW  OF   HIS   MILITARY   LIFE. 

Elizabethtoivn  Ky.^  Nov.  ^d.  I  suppose  you 
think  of  us  in  the  cold  November  rain,  camped 
in  a  tent,  as  in  a  very  miserable  condition.  Let 
me  describe  some  of  our  inconveniences  and 
sufferings,  that  you  may  know  just  how  to  pity 
us.  Day  before  yesterday  we  made  rather  a 
blazing  fire  in  our  tent,  and  our  barrel-built  chim- 
ney outside  took  fire,  and  blazed  away  finely  for 
a  few  minutes ;  but  the  water-pail  afforded  a 
sufiicient  fountain  and  the  dipper  an  adequate 
engine  for  extinguishing  the  flames,  and  to  pre- 
vent a  general  conflagration  from  a  similar  ac- 
cident in  the  future,  we  constructed  a  chimney 
yesterday  morning  of  turf,  and  surmounted  that 
with  the  barrels,  obtaining  in  this  way  both  safety 
from  fire,  and  a  good  draught.  In  the  afternoon 
we  went  to  the  tin  shop  in  town,  and  got  a  piece 
of  sheet-iron  about  a  yard  square,  and  had  a  hole 


158  FROM   ROCKFORD   TO    HIS   REST. 

cut  ill  the  middle  of  it,  over  which  we  can  put  a 
kettle  or  frying-pan  for  cooking,  and  a  small  hole 
in  each  of  the  four  corners  through  which  to 
drive  pins  to  fasten  it  in  place,  looking  about  so 
fashion,  |g  o  g].  This  we  placed  over  the  trench 
leading  into  our  chimney,  and  behold  we  have  a 
cook-stove.  Fireplaces  in  tents  we  now  regard 
as  quite  out  of  fashion  ;  nothing  but  a  stove  is  in 
any  degree  decent  or  tolerable.  Before  we  got 
it  quite  done,  it  began  to  rain,  but  we  had  a  good 
pile  of  wood  in  our  tent,  and  as  we  sat  over  our 
stove  dry  and  warm,  while  the  storm  raged  with- 
out, you  can  perliaps  picture  in  imagination 
"  our  sufferings.'"  When  supper- time  came,  we 
stirred  up  some  Indian  meal  with  an  egg  and 
due  proportions  of  soda,  tartaric  acid,  sugar,  salt, 
and  water,  and  putting  our  little  bake  kettle 
upon  the  stove,  we  put  in  it  a  large  basin  contain- 
ing the  prepared  materials,  and  covered  the  top 
with  coals,  and  in  a  few  minutes  after,  as  we 
lifted  the  cover  and  looked  in,  behold  a  johnny- 
cake  light  as  a  sponge,  and  done  to  perfection. 
We  had  syrup  made  from  melted  sugar  and 
fresh  butter,  and  a  good  cup  of  black  tea,  and 
thus    wretchedly    provided,    and    with    a  keen 


FROM   ROCKFORD   TO    HIS   REST.  159 

appetite,  you  can  imagine  how  we  did  suffer. 
Then,  as  to  lodgings,  we  levelled  the  pile  of  straw 
under  the  blanket,  and  placing  our  well-filled 
straw  tick  upon  it,  with  our  feet  toward  the 
stove,  and  a  load  of  blankets  and  overcoat  and 
outside  of  all  an  india-rubber. 

After  our  usual  evening  worship,  we  crawled 
into  as  warm  and  soft  a  bed  as  if  at  home,  and 
heard  the  storm  roaring  without  and  the  rain 
driving  against  our  tent,  while  all  was  dry  and 
comfortable  within.  Imagine  the  horrors  of  such 
a  night.  I  have  not  asked  Henry  how  his  mind 
was  affected  by  it,  but  for  myself,  I  awoke  with 
a  recollection  that  dreams  of  my  boyhood,  full 
of  beauty  and  joy,  played  with  my  intellect, 
blending  things  of  thirty  or  forty  years  ago  with 
things  of  my  Rockford  home,  in  weird  fancies 
and  droll  but  happy  confusion.  Ah !  dearest, 
and  all  my  family  and  friends,  do  think  of  us 
every  night  with  a  becoming  commiseration  of 
our  condition  and  pity  for  our  privations.  But 
all  joking  as  regards  ourselves  aside,  it  was  a 
hard  night  for  the  common  soldier,  especially  for 
such  as  had  to  stand  on  guard  exposed  to  the 
pelting  storm ;  it  was  hard  for  many  who  have 


160  FROM    ROCKFORD   TO    HIS   REST. 

insufficient  clothing  and  blankets,  and  no  fire  in 
their  tents  :  there  was  doubtless  a  great  deal  of 
real  suflfering  in  our  camp  and  other  camps  in  the 
vicinity.  It  is  no  wonder  that  men  under  such 
circumstances  should  commit  such  depredations 
as  burning  fence-rails  to  keep  warm,  and  even 
steal  from  stables  the  unthreshed  bundles  to 
put  in  their  tents  to  sleep  on. 

(To  his  Wife.) 

Camp  Lincoln,  Elizabethtoicn,  Ky.,  Nov.  16. 
I  have  not  had  as  good  attendance  on  my 
preaching,  since  the  visit  of  Mr.  Moody,  of  the 
Young  Men's  Christian  Association  of  Chicago, 
as  before,  and  there  has  been  a  good  deal  of 
fault-finding  because  I  do  not  visit  more,  preach 
and  pray  more,  and  so  forth.  Whether  it  is  in 
any  degree  due  to  the  sayings  of  Mr.  Moody,  I 
cannot  of  course  say  certainly,  but  it  looks  like 
it.  I  have  been  told  that  it  was  probably  his 
intention  to  get  me  turned  out  of  the  chaplain- 
cy, and  get  himself,  or  some  other  orthodox  man 
in  my  place.  He  went  to  General  Sherman  at 
Louisville,  and  entered  a  formal  written  com- 
plaint against  the  regiment,  as  being  in  such  a 


FROM    ROCKFORD   TO    HIS   REST.  161 

demoralized  condition  as  to  demand  immediate 
attention.  But  after  reading  it,  the  adjutant,  as 
I  was  informed,  threw  it  in  the  fire  as  unworthy 
of  notice.  The  officers  of  our  regiment,  when 
they  heard  of  his  complaint  at  Louisville,  were, 
in  general,  exceedingly  indignant,  and  I  have 
heard  that  he  narrowly  escaped  a  whipping  from 
one  of  them  wlio  since  met  him  in  the  streets  in 
Chicago.  I  am  very  glad  no  violence  was  done 
to  him. 

{To  his  Daughter.) 
PLAIN   PREACHING. 

Camp  Lincoln^  EUzabethtown,  Ky.,  Nov.  18. 
I  obtained  yesterday  the  use  of  the  Baptist 
meeting-house  in  Elizabethtown  in  the  after- 
noon for  our  regiment  to  meet  in,  and  had  a  good 
many  citizens  besides.  It  happened  that  I  had 
a  sermon  on  the  war,  in  which  I  expressed  my 
views  pretty  freely  on  the  way  it  had  been,  and 
the  way  it  ought  to  be,  conducted,  particularly 
on  the  confiscation  of  the  slave  property  of  rebels 
and  the  emancipation  in  the  rebellious  States.  It 
happened,  also,  that  most  of  my  audience,  except 

our  regiment,  were  slave-holders,  and  probably  a 
11 


162  FROM    ROCKFORD   TO    HIS   REST. 

majority  were  in  sympathy  with  secession.  For 
once  in  their  lives,  they  had  an  opportunity  to 
hear  a  little  plain  preaching  on  the  subject  of 
slavery,  and  I  had  an  opportunity  to  preach  with- 
out hindrance,  or  fear  of  molestation,  to  slave- 
holders in  a  slave  State.  The  good  deacon  of  the 
church  and  his  wife,  who  are  slave-holders,  but 
Unionists,  were  evidently  sore  alarmed,  and  a 
good  deal  troubled  about  the  effect  of  the  ser- 
mon on  their  secession  neighbors,  but  I  hope  a 
little  wholesome  truth  will  do  them  no  lasting 
injury. 

(To  his  Wife.) 
•      '  A   PIOUS   HOPE. 

Camp  Lincoln,  Elizahethtown  Nov.  26.  I  had 
a  very  pious  letter  of  exhortation  from  some 
orthodox  sister  in  Christ  in  Chicago  a  few  days 
ago,  who  seemed  very  anxious  that  I  should  do 
my  duty,  and  I  have  since  had  a  letter  from  an 
agent  of  the  Presbyterian  Publication  Society  of 
Philadelphia,  offering  to  send  me  tracts  for  circu- 
lation. I  wrote  to  the  agent  that  he  might  send 
on  his  tracts  by  mail,  and  I  would  circulate  them. 
As  to  the  sister  in  Christ,  as  she  only  signed  her 


FROM   ROCKFORD   TO    HIS   REST.  163 

initials,  I  did  not  take  the  trouble  to  reply  to 
her.  I  hope  in  the  Lord's  good  time  he  will  take 
her  to  glory.  I  am  sure  I  should  much  prefer 
that  all  such  sisters  should  go  to  glory  than 
come  into  camp.  I  hardly  know  which  is 
most  annoying,  orthodox  bigotry  and  cant,  or 
infidel  blasphemy  and  cursing.  Both  are  bad 
enough.  The  hope  of  doing  some  good  still 
keeps  me  in  heart. 

[To  his  Father.) 

UNLIMITED   CONFIDENCE   IN    GOD    RULING   OYER   ALL 

MEN    AND    CIRCUMSTANCES. 

Camp  Lincoln.)  Elizabethtown,  Kt/.,  Nov.  29. 
You  can  hardly  feel  more  impatient  at  the  slow 
movement  in  our  military  departments  than  do 
most  of  our  men  in  camp.  I  share,  to  some 
extent,  the  general  impatience  to  have  some- 
thing done,  particularly  in  the  South,  during 
cool  weather,  the  only  time  when  we  can  do 
anything  there.  But  I  feel  more  confidence 
in  the  wisdom  of  those  at  the  head  of  affairs 
than  I  do  in  my  own,  and  try  to  be  satisfied  with 
the  faithful  performance  of  my  own  humble 
trust,  finding  more  call  for  wisdom   and  virtue 


164  FROM   ROCKFORD   TO    HIS   REST. 

herein  than  I  can  respond  to  satisfactorily.  It 
is  my  chief  satisfaction  to  believe  that  superhu- 
man wisdom  is  directing  the  destinies  of  our 
nation,  and  to  hope  the  issue  will  be  Emancipa- 
tion, and  the  full  realization  of  Liberty  and  Jus- 
tice to  all  witliin  our  national  domain.  I  long 
to  see  this  kingdom  of  God  come  in  six  months. 
But  if  Providence  sees  fit  to  employ  three  or 
more  years  in  so  great  a  work,  I  hope  I  shall 
have  patience  and  rejoice  in  every  step  of  the 
grand  advance  of  the  incoming  age  of  glory  and 
blessedness. 

I  feel  greatly  cheered  at  the  indications  of  a 
growing  disposition  on  the  part  of  the  Govern- 
ment to  accept  the  help  of  all  loyal  men  without 
regard  to  color  or  condition,  and  trust  that  when 
justice  is  done  to  oppressed  humanity,  we  may 
begin  to  lift  up  our  heads  and  hands,  rejoicing 
that  the  time  of  our  redemption  draweth  nigh. 
Whatever  misfortunes  may  be  necessary  to  teach 
us  this  lesson  of  Justice,  whatever  delay  may  be 
necessary  to  impress  it  thoroughly,  may  well  be 
cheerfully  and  patiently  endured.  Things  which 
seem  to  us  disastrous  so  often  turn  out  to  be  the 


FROM    ROCKFORD    TO    HIS   REST.  165 

best  that  could  have  been  done,  that  we  may  well 
wait  on  the  Lord  and  hope  in  his  salvation. 

{To  his  Wife.) 
STRAW. 

Camp  Nevin^  Nolin  Creek,  Ky.,  Dec,  1861. 
Yesterday  was  a  very  warm,  summer-like  day, 
and  I  preached  to  the  soldiers  in  the  open  air 
before  the  colonel's  tent.  I  learned  the  night 
before  that  many  of  the  soldiers  had  no  straw  in 
their  tents  to  sleep  on,  and  were  uncomfortable 
for  want  of  it ;  and  so  I  preached  from  Exodus 
5  :  16.  "  There  is  no  straw  given  unto  thy  ser- 
vants, and  they  say  to  us.  Make  brick ;  and 
behold,  thy  servants  are  beaten,  but  the  fault  is 
in  thine  own  people." 

Without  straw  for  his  tent,  I  said,  it  was  very 
liard  for  a  man,  however  well  disposed,  to  be  a 
good  soldier.  Sleeping  on  the  bare  ground  pro- 
duced colds,  indigestion,  consumption,  and  rlieu- 
matism  ;  and  with  any  of  these  complaints  upon 
liim,  it  was  impossible  for  a  man  to  be  a  good 
soldier.  Then,  again,  it  had  a  moral  significance 
and  influence.  A  man  full  of  discomfort  is  like- 
ly, also,  to  be  full  of  ill-humor  and  to  ^ay  and  do 


166  FROM    ROCKFORD   TO    HIS   REST. 

bad  things.  Hence  tlie  duty  of  the  officers  to  do 
all  in  their  power  for  the  comfort  and  welfare  of 
the  men,  and  especially  to  set  before  them  an  ex- 
ample of  good  morals.  Hence  the  duty  of  the 
men,  also,  to  take  care  of  themselves.  If  some 
of  you  would  save  the  money  you  spend  for 
wliiskey,  buy  a  tick  and  fill  it  with  straw,  and 
if  they  did  not  give  you  straw,  like  the  Israelites, 
gather  stubble,  or  corn-husks,  or  even  leaves, 
you  would  find  it  much  easier  to  be  manly,  moral, 
and  noble  men. 

If  a  man  will  not  try  to  take  care  of  himself, 
all  the  officers  can  do  will  not  avail  to  make  him 
comfortable.  Have  a  practical  faith,  fellow-sol- 
diers, in  the  go^spel  of  straw  for  your  tents,  —  in 
the  gospel  of  a  good  bed  and  good  food,  and  it 
will  help  you  to  exercise  faith  in  every  other 
good  thing  in  human  goodness  and  divine  good- 
ness, and  the  good  and  glorious  hopes  of  immor- 
tality. The  gospel  of  God's  grace  to  the  body 
precedes  and  prepares  the  way  for  the  gospel  of 
his  grace  to  tlie  soul.  In  immediate  attention  to 
material  welfare  lay  the  foundation  for  moral  and 
spiritual  and  eternal  well-being. 


FROM    ROCKFORD    TO    HIS   REST.  167 

{To  his  Wife.) 

Dec.  26.  You  would  be  amused  to  see  the 
contrivances  of  the  soldiers  for  guarding  against 
the  cold  and  storm.  I  found  a  Rocky  Mountain 
trapper  in  Company  K  this  forenoon,  who  had 
dug  a  hole  six  feet  square,  and  five  feet  deep, 
covered  it  all  over  with  earth ;  then  in  one  side 
at  the  bottom  dug  into  the  clay  a  hole  eighteen 
inches  square,  and  a  little  distance  from  the  side 
of  his  pit  another  hole  to  meet  it  from  the  top,  so 
he  had  a  fireplace  and  chimney  ;  then  his  fire 
baked  the  clay,  and  he  had  a  nice  brick  fire- 
place and  chimney  ;  and  I  see  quite  a  number  of 
others  following  the  example.  This  with  a 
tent   over  it  makes  a  very  nice  hut. 

{To  Ms  Wife.) 
AN    EXCHANGE   WITH    A   BAPTIST   BROTHER. 

Camp  Jefferson,  Ky.^  Dec.  29.  I  went,  by 
agreement,  and  exchanged  with  Brother  Coffin, 
of  the  10th  Wisconsin.  It  has  been  as  beauti- 
ful a  day  overhead  as  midsummer.  I  went  on 
"  Puss  "  [his  pony]  without  my  overcoat,  and  was 
warm  enough  for  comfort,  but  the  clay  mud  was 
nasty.  I  had  opportunity  to  learn  that  our  reg- 
iment was  not  peculiar  in  some  of  its  disagreea- 


168  FROM   ROCKFORD   TO    HIS   REST. 

ble  habits  ;  worse  cursing  and  swearing  about 
being  compelled  to  go  to  meeting  than  I  over- 
heard there  I  never  overheard  at  home,  or  any- 
where else.  The  opposite  of  blessing  was  heaped 
upon  chaplains  without  stint,  and  hints  were 
dropped  by  the  officers  of  dull,  insignificant 
preaching  as  being  a  nuisance,  quite  significant 
of  sympathy  with  the  dissatisfaction  of  the  men. 
I  was  listened  to  with  attention,  and  treated  with 
distinguished  consideration,  invited  to  dinner  by 
the  lieutenant-colonel  and  major,  —  the  colonel 
being  called  away,  —  feasted  on  Christmas  turkey 
and  chickens,  and  entertained  with  literary  and 
moral  discussions  in  a  most  charming  way.  It 
was  very  fine.  ''  Change  of  pastures  makes  fat 
calves,"  "  new  brooms  sweep  clean,"  and  so  forth. 
Now,  think  I  to  myself,  as  I  was  riding  home,  I 
have  no  doubt  that  my  good  Brother  Coffin,  who 
appears  to  be  held  in  so  light  esteem  as  a  preacher 
at  home  has  delighted  my  regiment  with  his  dis- 
course, and  particularly  those  who  tliink  lightly 
of  me.  So,  keeping  my  own  secret  about  what 
I  had  heard,  I  made  inquiry,  and  found  it  was 
as  I  had  anticipated.  He  had  given  general 
satisfaction,  and    some  of  the  sourest  sectarian 


FROM    ROCKPbRD   TO    HIS   REST.  169 

grumblers  were  loud  and  eloquent  in  his  praise. 
It  was  the  first  gospel  sermon  they  had  heard  in 
six  montlis.  I  have  no  doubt  my  regiment, 
with  a  few  exceptions,  would  think  and  talk 
of  him  as  his  own  does  ;  and  on  the  other 
hand,  I  should  find  those  in  his  regiment 
equally  dissatisfied  as  are  men  of  like  prejudices 
in  my  own.  So  let  the  grumblers  make  much 
of  their  discontent,  while  we  both  endeavor, 
with  the  ability  God  giveth,  to  do  tlie  best  we 
can.  I  have  no  doubt  that  Brother  Coffin  is 
really  a  man  of  good  abilities,  deep  earnestness, 
and  great  excellence  of  character ;  doing  good 
to  those  who  are  in  sufficient  sympathy  with 
him  to  receive  good  from  him.  On  the  whole, 
the  exchange  has  been  pleasant  to  me,  and  rather 
encouraging,  and  1  rejoice  in  it,  as  an  exhibition 
of  a  Christian  spirit  of  liberality  and  charity  in 
the  army  which  is  rare  indeed  in  civil  clerical 
life. 

A  chaplain  can,  in  this  respect,  act  more  like  a 
Christian  gentleman  than  the  pastor  of  an  ortho- 
dox church.  As  chaplain,  he  has  broad  Chris- 
tian ends  to  serve,  and  not  the  petty  interests  of 
a  sect.     But  it  is  no  place  in  the  army  for  those 


170  FROM    ROCKFORD    TO    HIS    REST. 

who  depend  for  their  enjoyment  on  "  soft  rai- 
ment "  and  social  amenities  and  the  sweet  cour- 
tesies and  charming  graces  of  refined,  cultivated 
Cliristian  society.  It  is  a  John  Baptist  mission, 
to  be  fulfilled  in  a  hair  mantle  and  a  leather  gir- 
dle, and  with  an  axe-man's  blows  at  the  root  of 
prevalent  evils. 

I  have  been  slowly  learning  the  necessity  of 
working  without  gloves,  and  to  follow  Paul's  di- 
rection to  Timothy,  — "  Those  that  sin  openly  re- 
buke before  all,  tliat  others,  also,  may  fear  ;  and 
let  no  man  despise  thee,"  and  that  the  example 
of  Jesus  in  making  and  using  a  whip  has  a 
practical  and  important  significance.  Tliere  are 
money-changers,  gamblers,  rascals  for  whom  a 
flogging  is  needful  and  useful,  and  he  is  no  true 
disciple  of  Christ  who  will  not  on  occasion  ad- 
minister something  of  the  kind. 

I  imagine  I  see  a  humorous,  roguish  kind  of  a 
smile  on  your  face  as  you  read  such  sentences 
from  me,  and  think  of  my  anti-belligerent  views 
a  few  years  ago.  But  I  can  only  say  experience 
is  a  great  teacher,  and  new  circumstances  give 
us   new  views,  and  a   change   of  position  ~some 


FROM    ROCKFORD    TO    HIS    REST.  171 

times  changes  opinion  and  feeling  in  a  way  as 
surprising  to  ourselves  as  to  others. 

(To  his  Wife.) 

Camp  Jefferson^  Bacon  Creek^  Ky.^  Jan.  Ist^ 
1862.  One  of  the  pleasant  recollections  that 
came  to  me  this  morning  was  the  circumstance 
that  on  the  1st  of  January,  1836,  1  wrote  a  let- 
ter from  the  Desplaine  River,  in  Illinois,  to  Betsey 
M.  Kelsey  in  Brandon,  Vermont.  God  be  thanked 
for  the  happiness  of  that  day  and  year,  and  for  all 
the  joy  of  which  it  was  the  prelude.  How  much  of 
domestic  enjoyment  has  been  my  experience,  and 
hope  1  may  say  yours,  also,  in  these  twenty-six 
years  of  life  !  The  recollection  is  just  occasion  of 
gratitude  and  fit  inspiration  of  a  still  purer  and 
deeper  love  for  each  other ;  and  yet  our  love  has 
at  no  time  seemed  deficient  in  these  qualities. 
God  be  thanked  for  the  children  he  has  given 
lis,  and  for  all  their  good  qualities,  their  good 
behavior,  their  worth,  and  prospects  of  usefulness 
and  happiness  in  life.  Their  worth  and  welfare 
is  the  multiplication  of  our  enjoyments,  and  we 
have  occasion  of  gratitude  that  they  are  doing 
so  well. 


172  FROM    ROCKFORD   TO    HIS   REST. 

(To  his  Father.) 

Boivling  Green,  Ky.,  Feb.  2Dth,  1862.  1  feel 
sorry  for  your  financial  difficulties,  but  I  hope 
you  will  give  yourself  as  little  trouble  and 
anxiety  about  it  as  possible.  "  We  brought 
nothing  into  this  world,"  as  Paul  says,  "  and  can 
carry  nothing  out ; "  and  I  presume  that,  not- 
withstanding all  losses,  you  will  have  enough  to 
carry  you  comfortably  through  ;  and  if  your 
means  fail,  mine  may  hold  out,  and  will  be 
cheerfully  used  for  your  comfort,  should  occasion 
demand.  The  war  has  produced  general  dis- 
turbance, but  we  may  hope  for  prosperity  with 
the  return  of  peace.  When  I  see  what  men 
have  lost  here  by  the  robbery  and  burning  of  the 
rebel  army,  and  by  the  destruction  of  timber 
fences,  grain  fields,  etc.,  by  both  armies,  I  think 
our  friends  of  the  North  have  little  reason  to 
complain.  Many  Union  men  of  this  town  have 
been  burned  out,  and  all  they  had  destroyed  in  a 
fev^  hours.  All  around  the  country  has  been 
stripped  and  devastated ;  and  all  that  many  of 
the  people  have  to  show  for  their  horses,  cattle, 
and  crops  is  southern  scrip  and  due-bills  from 
quartermasters  of  the  Confederate  States,  wliich 


FROM    ROCKFORD   TO    HIS   REST.  173 

may  be  redeemed  if  the  rebellion  succeeds,  —  a 
poor  show  just  at  present. 

( To  his  Daughter.) 

Camp  near  Fayetteville,  Tenn.,  March  6.  This 
morning  I  sent  in  a  match-box  a  prisoner 
captured  at  Athens,  Ala.,  to  Dr.  Le  Baron,  of 
Geneva.  It  was  a  rebellious  and  bellicose  beetle 
bug,  about  as  large  as  a  small  mouse,  with  enor- 
mous mandibles.  I  informed  the  doctor  where 
he  was  captured,  and  that  I  had  kept  him  in 
close  confinement  for  about  ten  days,  and  as  he 
would  not  take  the  oath  of  allegiance  to  the 
United  States,  I  sent  him  as  a  prisoner  to  him  to 
be  dealt  with  in  a  proper  manner.  This  is  the 
only  prisoner  I  have  sent  home  as  yet  from  the 
war.  The  honey-bees,  flies,  and  butterflies  all 
hum  and  flutter  in  a  loyal  way,  feeling  no  sym- 
pathy with  rebellion,  and  the  pe-wees,  wrens, 
larks,  and  swallows  sing  in  real  Northern  Union 
style.  There  are  songsters  of  the  grove,  whose 
plumage  and  song  are  new  to  me,  but  there 
is  evidently  nothing  treasonable  and  malicious 
about  them,  and  no  thought  of  murderous  war- 
fare is  harbored  in  their  breasts,  unless,  perhaps, 
the  military   necessity   of   foraging   upon    bugs 


174      FROM  ROCKFORD  TO  HIS  REST. 

and  worms,  and  mayhap,  in  an  emergency, 
taking,  without  a  "  voucher,"  a  few  grains  of 
wheat  or  oats  from  a  ripening  field.-  Soldiers 
who  take  chickens  in  a  similar  way  ought  not  to 
complain  of  them,  particularly  as  no  "  general 
orders "  have  been  issued  to  them  forbidding 
such  things.  Set  a  bowl  of  water  in  the  sun- 
shine and  hold  a  piece  of  glass  over  it,  and  see 
the  bright  reflection  dance  about  on  the  wall 
or  overhead.  Just  so  are  the  rippling  waves 
of  the  river  now  making  of  the  reflected  sun- 
light dancing  Jacks  upon  the  shaded,  overhang- 
ing wall  of  rock  across  the  water  from  my 
tent.  Cheer,  cheer,  cheer,  cheer,  sings  a  little 
bird  in  the  great  sassafras  tree  overhead. 
Whether  he  is  cheering  the  sport  of  the  wavelet 
or  something  else  which  excites  his  exultation, 
I  am  not  able  to  declare.  His  comrades  seem 
to  understand  him,  and  respond  heartily  with 
chirp  and  twitter,  warble  and  song,  whistle  and 
bird-shout,  and  the  crow,  high  overhead,  caws 
his  sympathy  and  approval. 

(To  his  Wife.) 

Camp  Martin    Van   Buren,  below   Murfrees- 
borough^   Tenn.^  March    22.      The    negroes  are 


FROM   ROCKFORD   TO    HIS   REST.  175 

the  truest  friends  we  have,  and  take  every  safe 
opportunity  to  give  us  useful  information ;  and 
it  is  abominable  meanness,  as  well  as  stupid 
folly,  that  our  officers  will  not  generally  avail 
themselves  of  the  advantage  of  their  friendly 
disposition,  and  accept  the  assistance  they  might 
render  us  in  prosecuting  the  war.  We  de- 
serve defeat  and  disgrace  until  we  are  willing 
to  let  the  oppressed  race  co-operate  with  us 
against  the  rebels  and  oppressors  who  are  not 
only  warring  against  Eepublican  Government, 
but  against  humanity.  If  the  punishment  could 
only  fall  on  those  who  deserve  it,  I  should  say  let 
it  come,  no  matter  how  soon ;  but  we  are  all 
bound  up  together,  and  must  take  our  share  of 
the  weal  or  woe  involved  in  the  conduct  of  the 
war.  My  hope  is  that  we  shall  grow  wiser  by 
experience  and  do  better,  and  that  the  desire  of 
the  righteous  shall  be  fulfilled,  and  the  rod  of 
the  oppressor  be  broken,  and  the  counsel  of  the 
wicked  come  to  naught.  Does  not  God  rule  on 
the  earth  ? 

( To  his  Daughter. ) 

Camp    Van  Buren^  March  26.     I  should  not 
object  to  a  close  of  the  war  in  four  weeks,  and 


176  FROM    ROCKFORD   TO    HIS   REST. 

a  return  liome  from  this  camp ;  and  I  some- 
times think  it  among  the  possibilities  that  we 
may  do  so.  But  there  are  indications  of  a  long 
struggle.  If  our  Government  only  had  the 
courage  and  common  sense  to  declare  the  slaves 
of  traitors  free,  and  take  them  into  service  as  la- 
borers, or  enlist  them  as  soldiers,  it  might  make 
short  work  of  pulling  down  the  rebellion.  But  if 
the  policy  is  pursued  of  preserving  slavery  and 
the  Union  too,  we  may  look  out  for  a  long  and 
hard  struggle.  Until  we  are  ready  to  do  justice, 
or  something  approaching  towards  it,  to  the  col- 
ored race,  we  are  not  ready  for  a  settlement  of 
the  strife,  and  the  restoration  of  peace,  —  we  are 
not  ready  for  even  a  successful  prosecution  of 
the  war.  But  it  is  little  I  can  do  to  change  the 
course  of  events.  I  think  before  the  war  is 
ended,  however,  we  should  be  wilHng  to  take 
hold  of  it  more  in  earnest,  and  let  slavery  go  to 
destruction  to  save  the  nation. 

{To his  Wife.) 

Camp  Van  Buren,  March  31.  Yesterday  I 
preached  from  the  text,  "  There  is  no  power  but 
of  God,  and  if  God  be  for  us,  who  can  be  against 
us?'*      1  had  a  brass  drum  for   a  desk,  and  a 


FROM    ROCKFORD   TO    HTS   REST.  177 

rifled  brass  cannon  on  either  side  for  the  walls  of 
my  pulpit.  Not  a  large  attendance,  but  I  gave 
them  a  plain,  earnest  talk  on  the  necessity  of 
obedience  to  the  laws  of  God  in  order  to  enlist- 
ing on  our  side  the  power  of  God,  —  of  being 
for  truth,  justice,  and  humanity  if  we  would  have 
God  for  and  with  us.  I  also  spoke  of  the  failure 
of  many  of  our  military  men  to  recognize  the  im- 
portance of  moral  and  religious  influences  and 
moral  force  in  tlie  prosecution  by  citizen  soldiery 
of  a  war  for  the  moral  welfare  of  our  nation  and 
of  universal  liumanity.  ...  I  have  not  been 
more  delighted  with  anything  since  the  com- 
mencement of  the  war  tlian  with  President  Lin- 
coln's special  message  recommending  the  passage 
of  a  resolution  favorable  to  gradual  emancipation 
in  the  border  slave  States.  This  looks,  indeed, 
like  the  dawn  of  day,  the  breaking  light  of  free- 
dom, and  a  true  and  lasting  peace.  Just  as  fast 
and  far  as  slavery  is  abolislied,  the  victory  is  fully 
won,  the  cause  of  strife  removed,  and  abiding 
peace  obtained.  But  it  must  be  done  as  the 
President  is  doing  it,  gradually  and  cautiously,  as 
the  people  are  ready  and  willing  to  co-operate 
with  it.     All  the  delay  and  suffering  experienced 

12 


178      FROM  ROCKFORD  TO  HIS  REST. 

has  been  a  necessary  preparation  for  united  and 
efficient  action  ;  and  we  may  yet  need  more  of 
tlie  same  kind  to  bring  us  a  nation  fully  up  to  the 
mark.  But  what  is  needful  I  feel  sure  will  be, 
and  God's  glory  will  be  revealed  in  the  deliver- 
ance of  the  oppressed,  and  the  thorough  regenera- 
tion of  our  nation.  The  blood  of  our  heroes,  like 
the  blood  of  Christ,  will  l)e  our  cleansing  from  the 
sin  of  pride,  oppression,  and  cruelty,  of  which  we 
have  been  so  long  guilty  as  a  people.  If  we  are 
indeed  redeemed  by  the  blood  shed,  the  salvation 
will  exceed  the  cost.  The  ultimate  blessings  se- 
cured will  be  more  than  worthy  the  sacrifices 
made.  If  I  should  happen  to  come  home  with- 
out a  scratch  or  scar,  I  shall  feel  as  thougli  I  had 
hardly  earned  a  right  to  share  the  blessings  ob- 
tained by  the  bloody  sacrifices  of  others.  But 
God  knows  I  have  not  been  without  moral  suffer- 
ings in  the  endeavor  to  do  my  duty,  and  these 
may  be  a  substitute  perhaps  for  physical  ones. 


FROM   ROCKPORD   TO   HIS  REST.  179 

chaplain's  report. 

CHA.PLAtN'8  Quarters,  19th  Reg.  III.  Vols., 

Camp  Martin  Van  Buren,  March  31,  1862. 

Report  of  the  Moral  and  Religious  Condition  of  the  Vdth  Regi- 
ment of  Illinois  Volunteers^  for  the  Quarter  ending  March 
Ust,  1862. 

To  Major  Frederick  Harding,  Commanding: 

In  presenting  the  following  report,  the  chaplain 
would  remark  that,  while  the  moral  and  religious 
condition  of  the  19th  Regiment  affords  some 
cheering  confirmation  of  the  substantial  truth 
of  the  beautiful,  inspiring,  and  poetic  fancy  that 
every  human  being  has  "  an  angel  side,"  it 
also  leaves  little  room  for  doubt  that  there  is  for 
a  portion  of  humanity  an  opposite  side,  which 
can  only  be  characterized  as  bestial  and  devilish. 
In  regard  to  the  low  vices  of  profanity,  drunken- 
ness, and  gambling,  there  is  great  need  of  re- 
form and  improvement,  but  very  little  hope  of  it 
until  initiated  and  sustained  by  the  officers  of  the 
regiment.  All  which  is  respectfully  presented  to 
serious  consideration  and  earnest  attention  by  A. 
H.  Conant,  chaplain  of  the  19th  Reg.  111.  Vols. 

{To his  Sister.) 

■  Shelbyville,   Tenn.,  April   1th.     I   sympathize 
with  your  desire  to  have  the  war  effect   the  re- 


180  FROM    ROCKFORD   TO    HIS   REST. 

moval  of  its  iniquitous  cause,  and  have  sometimes 
felt  the  apprehension  that  it  would  fail  of  it. 
But,  on  the  whole,  I  am  inclined  to  be  hopeful. 
We  of  the  North  did  not  desire  or  design  to 
have  war,  but  it  came  in  spite  of  us  ;  so  we  do 
not  as  a  whole  want  to  interfere  with  slavery  in 
the  prosecution  and  conclusion  of  it.  But  I  feel 
confident  we  shall  be  compelled  to  do  it,  willing- 
ly or  unwillingly.  A  higher  power  is  at  work, 
and  for  higher  ends  than  govern  our  action.  I 
was  more  excited  and  elated  by  the  special  mes- 
sage of  President  Lincoln  on  the  subject  of 
emancipation  in  the  border  States  than  I  have  been 
by  any  victory  we  have  gained.  I  think  it  is  the 
beginning  of  the  end  of  slavery,  and  hope  that,  in 
the  same  wise  and  just  spirit,  the  subject  will  be 
followed  up  until  the  glorious  result  is  attained. 
I  feel  not  only  the  physical,  but  the  moral  hor- 
rors of  this  war.  But  if  through  all  this  agony 
the  nation  is  really  regenerated,  it  will  be  as  a 
drop  in  the  bucket  to  the  blessings  secured.  I 
feel  shocked  and  disgusted  at  the  depravity  and 
corruption  exhibited  in  camp.  It  seems  such  an 
outrage  that  so  holy  a  cause  as  that  in  which  we 
are  engaged  should  be  desecrated  and  compro- 


FROM   ROCKFORD   TO    HIS   REST.  181 

mised  by  the  vileness  and  iniquity  of  those  who 
are  sustaining  it,  that  I  am  often  sick  and  dis- 
heartened, and  feel  as  though  notliing  l)ut  a 
severe  flogging  by  our  enemies,  and  a  just  retri- 
bution for  our  sins,  can  do  us  any  real  good. 
But  for  the  sake  of  those  who  love  righteousness 
and  hate  iniquity,  and  are  striving  with  all 
their  energy  to  do  well,  I  hope  and  pray  for  the 
continued  success  of  our  armies,  and  the  speedy 
end  of  the  rebellion. 

(To  his  Son.) 

Decatur,  Alabama,  April  21.  I  was  sorry 
to  hear  of  the  death  of  Colonel  Ellis,  at  Pitts- 
burg Landing.  It  is  a  sad  experience  for  his 
wife  and  little  family.  How  many  brave  men 
have  fallen  in  this  struggle  for  freedom  and 
constitutional  law  against  slavery  and  self-will  ! 
But  we  have  reason  to  hope  that  by  this  shedding 
of  blood  our  nation  will  obtain  redemption  from 
the  sin  and  curse  of  slavery  and  lawlessness,  and 
the  reward  be  greater  than  the  sacrifice.  If  it 
should  be  my  fortune  to  fall  a  victim,  I  know 
you  would  all  grieve  over  it;  but  I  hope  you 
would  also  rejoice  that  I  laid  the  offering  of  my 


182  FROM    ROCKFORD   TO    HIS   REST. 

life  upon  the  altar  of  freedom  and  humanity,  and 
fell  for  so  good  and  noble  a  cause.  Death  must 
come  to  us  all,  and  it  may  be  esteemed  fortunate 
if  it  come  in  such  a  way  as  greatly  to  promote 
the  welfare  of  mankind.  I  liope  to  live  and  re- 
turn to  you  to  enjoy  long  the  results  of  a  success- 
ful war  for  tlie  maintenance  of  our  government, 
and  the  best  ideas  of  which  it  is  significant ;  but 
if  I  should  not,  I  hope  you  will  always  esteem  it 
an  honor  that,  in  God's  providence,  I  had  a  place 
among  the  hosts  of  martyrs  to  freedom. 

(To  his  Wife.) 

Decatur,  Alabama,  April  22, 1862.  It  seems 
as  though  the  chief  hardship  and  suffering  has 
not  fallen  to  me  in  camp,  but  to  you  at  home.* 
While  I  have  had  little  or  no  opportunity  for  the 
exercise  of  heroic  virtues,  you  have  had  severe 
trials  of  courage,  endurance,  self-sacrifice,  and 
won  laurels  quite  as  worthy  of  ambition  as  those 
of  the  brave  defenders  of  freedom.  It  is  not  the 
place  or  circumstance  that  constitutes  essential 
greatness,  but  the  true,  noble,  brave  spirit,  which 
meets  and  masters  all.  So  you  have  been  exhib- 
iting and  acquiring  heroism  at  home ;  while  in 


FROM   ROCKFORD   TO    HIS   REST.  183 

the  camp  and  on  the  march,  I  have  done  little 
more  than  to  look  out  for  my  own  comfort  and 
welfare. 

{To  Ms  Sister.) 

Camp  Mitchell^  Mt.  Athens^  Alabama^  May 
16th,  1862.  I  sympathize  with  your  repugnance 
at  the  horrors  of  war,  and  feel,  as  worse  than  tlie 
mortal  agonies  and  social  bereavements,  the  de- 
moralization of  men  in  camp  life.  But  I  still 
hope  that  out  of  all  tliese  evils  the  great  provi- 
dence of  God  will  bring  forth  greater  good,  and 
the  agonies  will  be  followed  by  the  new  bulk  of 
our  nation,  the  night  of  iniquity  by  the  dawn- 
ing of  the  day  of  freedom,  and  these  conflicts 
with  the  powers  of  darkness  be  followed  by  the 
triumph  of  righteousness  and  the  coming  in 
power  and  glory  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  If 
the  right  prevails  over  the  wrong,  if  the  curse 
of  slavery  is  removed,  and  we  come  forth  from 
the  war  a  redeemed  people,  all  the  sacrifice  will 
be  amply  repaid.  Hoping  and  trusting  this  will 
be  the  ultimate  result,  I  endeavor  to  endure  pa- 
tiently and  wait  cheerfully,  and  do  the  little  I  can 
do,  and  leave  the  rest  to  Him  who  cares  for  us 
all. 


184  FROM   ROCKFORD   TO   HIS   REST. 

{To his  Wife.) 

There  are  as  vile  beasts  in  human  sliape  in 
camp  as  are  permitted  to  pollute  the  earth  with 
their  presence.  It  is  a  place  of  abominations.  But 
there  is  one  comfort,  a  man  need  not  make  him- 
self mean  in  tlie  midst  of  meanness.  The  soul 
can  create  for  itself  a  heaven  in  the  midst  of  hell, 
and  make  all  abominable  things  add  to  the  depth 
of  its  purity  and  strength  of  its  integrity  through 
the  sentiment  of  disgust  and  horror  and  detesta- 
tion excited  against  them.  I  do  not  think  I  ever 
could  have  felt  such  abhorrence  and  hatred  of 
certain  forms  of  vice,  if  I  had  not  seen  their 
hideousness  in  camp,  as  my  recent  experiences 
awakened.  So  this  purgatory  may  be  of  service 
to  me  after  all,  I  believe;  indeed,  it  will  be  my 
own  great  folly  and  fault  if  I  am  not  only  a 
wiser  but  a  better  man  for  my  camp  life.  Tak- 
ing this  view  of  the  matter,  I  feel  ashamed  of  my 
moral  weakness  and  cowardice  in  wishing  to  es- 
cape to  the  safe  and  blessed  sanctuary  of  home, 
from  which  gross  evils  are  shut  out.  I  ought  to 
be  a  brave  soldier  and  not  a  cowardly  deserter  in 
the  moral  warfare  in  which  I  have  enlisted. 
But  spite  of  these  manlier  thoughts,  the  love  of 


FROM    ROCKFORD   TO    HIS   REST.  185 

home  will  keep  alive  the  earnest  desire  for  the 
speedy  coming  of  the  day  of  discharge. 

{To  his  Wife.) 

Bridgeport,  Ala.,  July  10,  1862.  The  more  I 
see  of  the  condition,  and  learn  of  the  feeling  of 
the  common  people,  the  more  apprehensive  do  I 
become  that  we  have  but  just  begun  the  war. 
There  is  a  wider-spread  and  deeper-felt  hatred 
of  the  Northern  people  at  the  South  than  I  could 
without  observation  have  understood  or  believed. 
It  seems  as  though  nothing  short  of  the  depopu- 
lation of  the  country,  and  its  repopulation  with 
men  of  a  different  character  could  bring  peace. 

July  18,  1862,  writes.  Many  of  the  officers 
mean  to  resign  if  Colonel  Turchin  is  condemned. 
But  I  should  be  sorry  to  have  men  in  favor  of 
slavery,  as  Buell  is  well  known  to  be,  left  in  en- 
tire control  by  the  resignation  of  men  in  favor  of 
freedom  ;  so  I  shall  not  resign  for  that ;  but  as  it 
is  probable  that,  owing  to  the  scattered  condition 
of  the  regiment,  being  set  to  guard  one  hundred 
miles  of  railroad,  I  may  not  be  able  to  render  the 
men  any  service  as  chaplain,  and  then  I  may  re- 
sign. 


186  FROM    ROCKFORD   TO    HIS   REST. 

June  10,  1862.  Yesterday  I  made  a  hum  in 
camp  by  seizing  the  money  of  some  gamblers  for 
the  benefit  of  the  hospital  fund,  according  to  a 
general  order  from  Colonel  Turchin,  issued  last 
summer.  Since  the  men  were  paid  off,  the  gam- 
blers in  camp  have  been  fleecing  the  simple  ones. 
One  fellow  lost  in  a  few  hours  ninety  dollars,  and 
was  frantic  to  go  on.  I  spoke  to  the  officer  in 
command  about  it,  but  whenever  he  appeared, 
there  was  no  money  to  be  found.  I  happened, 
in  passing  a  tent,  to  see  a  game  going  on  and  the 
money  on  the  table ;  so  I  just  seized  hold  of  it, 
telling  them  I  must  confiscate  it  to  the  hospital. 
One  of  the  gamblers  sprang  up,  and  caught  hold 
of  me,  and  tried  to  take  it  from  me.  I  told  him 
be  had  better  be  quiet,  or  he  would  get  himself 
in  trouble.  I  put  the  money  into  the  hands  of 
Mrs.  Turchin,  until  the  colonel  returns  to  camp. 
Some  of  the  gamblers  threatened  that  if  any 
one  attempted  to  take  their  money,  they  would 
get  their  head  knocked  off;  but  captain  told 
them  the  best  thing  for  them  to  do  was  to  keep 
still,  or  they  would  be  put  under  arrest.  I 
supposed,  of  course,  they  would  not  like  to  be 
interfered  with.     But   I  am   commissioned  and 


PROM   ROCKFORD   TO    HIS   REST.  187 

paid  to  look  after  the  moral  welfare  of  the  reg- 
iment, and  I  do  not  mean  to  be  prevented  for 
fear  of  giving  offence.  The  colored  men  of  the 
brigade  were  taken  this  forenoon  under  a  guard 
to  brigade  head-quarters,  to  give  a  party  of  slave- 
holders a  chance  to  look  for  runaway  slaves  ;  but 
none  were  found.  By  some  means  the  negroes 
had  heard  of  the  plan  last  night,  and  those  in 
danger  had  disappeared.  It  is  thought  by  some 
that  Colonel  Hill,  37th  Indiana,  has  laid  himself 
liable  to  be  cashiered  for  this  attempt  to  aid  slave- 
catchers. 

I  have  just  given  my  colored  boy  Andy  his  first 
lesson  in  reading.  It  is  a  great  pleasure  to  lielp 
a  bright  fellow  like  Andy,  who  seems  so  able  and 
willing  to  help  himself;  he  is  wide  awake,  keeps 
all  in  order,  gets  up  a  good  breakfast,  dinner,  and 
tea.  Yesterday  evening  I  found  in  my  tent  a 
splendid  bouquet  of  roses,  pinks,  and  honey- 
suckles. I  gathered  from  him  that  they  were 
from  Sally,  who  had  found  out  where  he  was,  and 
met  him  at  the  well  when  he  went  for  water.  It 
is  a  peculiar  feeling,  camping  here  in  the  ene- 
my's country.  I  look  out  at  the  mountains  only 
three  or  four  miles  off,  long  to  climb  them,  but 


188  FROM   ROCKFORD   TO    HIS   REST. 

dare  not  venture.  It  seems  queer  to  be  sur- 
rounded by  people  who  look  at  you  like  wolves, 
to  guard  your  life  night  and  day  by  unflagging 
vigilance  ;  but  it  is  the  stern  necessity  of  war, 
and  none  but  an  atheist  can  believe  it  will  be  in 
vain.  We  may  suffer  defeat,  but  it  will  be  to 
teach  us  higher  wisdom  and  to  do  that  justice 
with  which  alone  is  omnipotence  and  real  success. 

I  am  getting  ragged,  but  I  patch  up  and  keep 
as  decent  as  I  can.  I  have  made  a  cot  to  sleep  on, 
which  is  very  nice.  You  can  hardly  believe  how 
entirely  comfortable  I  have  learned  to  make  my- 
self in  tent.  I  might  lie  on  the  damp  ground  at 
night,  as  I  see  others  do,  have  no  floor  to  my 
tent  and  no  fire,  get  sick,  and  then  a  nice  long 
furlough ;  but  as  I  feel  it  my  duty  to  take  care  of 
health,  I  see  no  prospect  of  a  furlough,  and  shall 
probably  have  to  keep  fat,  healthy,  and  far  from 
home. 

This  evening  our  Bible  class  was  the  fullest  we 
have  ever  had,  and  all  seemed  interested  ;  I  feel 
better  satisfied  with  these  meetings  than  with 
anything  else  I  am  doing,  and  really  think  that  in 
this  way  I  am  sowing  good  seed  where  some  of 
it  will  be  likely  to  spring  up  and  bear  fruit. 


FROM    ROCKFORD   TO    HIS  REST.  189 

I  feel  sometimes  as  though  I  were  accomplish- 
ing very  little  and  ought  to  resign.  The  officers 
of  the  regiment  are  many  of  them  not  merely 
irreligious  but  immoral  men,  gamblers,  hard 
drinkers,  and  profane  swearers.  My  preaching 
and  talking  seems  to  avail  nothing,  and  to  get 
out  of  the  regiment  would  be  to  me  like  getting 
out  of  pain  ;  but  then  I  consider  whether  without 
a  chaplain  some  at  least  would  not  be  worse,  and 
that  there  is  no  place  under  heaven  where  moral 
and  religious  influence  is  more  needed,  and  I  be- 
lieve I  have,  with  all  these  adverse  influences, 
inspired  the  respect  of  both  officers  and  men. 

I  have  had  for  a  day  or  two  to  keep  quiet  from 
an  attack  of  the  army  diarrhoea.  I  saw  in  the 
"  Inquirer "  a  notice  that  a  tea  made  from  the 
bark  of  the  sweet  gum  tree  is  a  capital  specific. 
So,  as  one  of  these  trees  makes  part  of  the  shade 
over  our  tent,  I  got  the  bark,  and  am  drinking  the 
tea  ;  and  Mr.  George,  who  has  just  come  by  while 
I  am  writing  in  the  shade,  tells  me  the  efiect  of 
this  tea  in  the  hospital  has  been  most  excellent. 
I  can  hardly  help  feeling  guilty  for  living  so  idly 
and  comfortably  as  I  do  now,  but  I  try  to  be 
reconciled  by  thinking  that  the  Divine  Providence 


190  FROM   ROCKFORD   TO    HIS   REST. 

is  giving  me  a  holiday  whether  I  will  or  no,  and 
this  is  a  wonderful  plea  to  be  lazy  in.  The 
country  is  full  of  fine  ripe  peaches  ;  thousands  of 
bushels  are  rotting  on  the  ground,  and  it  is  piti- 
ful to  see  the  quantities  of  blackberries  that  have 
dried  up.  Our  boys  have  built  a  dam  across  the 
creek,  and  far  down  I  can  see  them  enjoying  the 
cool  stream  and  the  cool  shade  of  the  trees,  as  we 
were  before  Eve  ate  the  apple.  But  if  these 
earthly  scenes  are  too  earthly,  then  the  blue 
heavens  and  white  clouds  shine  through  the 
dancing  leaves  and  open  into  vistas  of  celestial 
beauty,  symbols  of  divine  sanctity,  infinite  majesty, 
and  eternal  peace.  Ah,  wife,  these  old  trees 
reveal  quite  as  much  as  they  conceal  of  heaven's 
glory,  and  the  clear  eye,  the  pure  heart,  has  ever 
its  mission  of  the  infinite  beauty  and  responsive 
pulsation  to  the  infinite  love. 

I  have  found  out  how  to  touch  the  heart  and 
moisten  the  eye  of  the  soldier.  I  just  begin  to 
describe  to  him  what  a  paradise  home  is,  —  how 
pure  the  love  cherished  there,  how  kind  the 
hearts,  how  gentle  the  tones,  how  unselfish  the 
deeds,  —  and  then  he  is  soon  done  for  ;  if  there 
is  any  manliness  about  him,  he  surrenders.     It  is 


PROM    ROCKFORD   TO    HIS   REST.  191 

a  thing  I  uever  do,  however,  without  having  to 
end  wiping  my  own  eyes.  I  sometimes  hope,  when 
I  am  nearest  despair,  that  this  camp  life,  which 
seems  so  ruinous  to  the  souls  of  our  men,  may 
end  in  an  utter  surfeit  of  simple  indulgence,  an 
everlasting  abhorrence  and  hatred  of  the  vices  of 
men  set  free  from  the  restraint  of  home.  I  am 
often  astonished  that  men  are  not  sooner  sickened 
by  the  profanity  and  obscenity  which  prevail. 

Huntsville,  Aug-.  19,  1862.  A  scene.  Two 
ladies  in  a  carriage,  with  a  negro  driver,  have 
been  to  these  head-quarters  slave-hunting.  Had 
heard  that  one  named  Andrew  was  here.  Had 
a  permit  from  General  Rousseau  to  search  tlie 
camps.  Inquired  for  the  chaplain's  tent,  and  pro- 
posed to  search  that.  Chaplain  closed  the  tent, 
and  told  them  that  it  belonged  to  him,  and'  they 
could  not  enter  or  look  into  it.  Ladies  held  out 
a  paper,  which  they  said  was  General  Rousseau's 
permit  of  search.  Chaplain  told  them  neither 
they  nor  the  general  could  enter  his  tent  for 
such  a  purpose.  Ladies  left  in  a  towering  pas- 
sion, to  bring  the  general  in  person  to  catch  the 
negro,  punish  the  chaplain,  and  so  forth.  Have 
not  returned  yet  with  him,  and  J  suspect  they 


192  FROM   ROCKFORD   TO    HIS   REST. 

find  it  hard  to  persuade  him  to  come.  Mayhe 
I  shall  be  honored  with  an  invitation  to  the 
general's  head-quarters,  or  to  appear  before  his 
highness  Don  Carlos  Buell.  Maybe  not ;  I  wait 
with  patience.  After  the  ladies  were  gone,  Andy 
took  a  walk  ;  I  did  not  notice  which  way  he 
went. 

Aug.  22,  1862.  Yesterday  we  had  another 
hunt  in  our  camp.  The  women  came  again,  re- 
inforced by  an  escort  of  three  cavalry  with 
orders  from  General  Rousseau,  they  said,  to  take 
Andy,  dead  or  alive,  to  his  head-quarters.  Andy 
was  not  in  camp.  I  was  a  little  distance  from 
my  tent,  building  a  foot-bridge,  but  went  and 
closed  my  tent-door.  Seeing  my  tent  shut  up, 
they  suspected  Andy  was  there ;  so  one  of  the 
escort  came,  intending  to  look  in.  I  bade  him 
stand  back,  told  him  he  could  not  enter.  He 
presented  what  he  said  was  General  Rousseau's 
order.  I  told  him  the  order  was  to  search  the 
camp,  but  not  my  tent ;  he  might  go  to  the  length 
of  his  order,  but  in  such  an  infamous  business, 
not  an  hair's  breadth  further.  He  then  went 
back,  when  one  of  the  women  shouted  she 
wished  she  was   a  man,  she  would  go  into  that 


FROM   ROCKFORD   TO   HIS   REST.  193 

tent.  I  told  her  it  was  a  pity  she  was  not,  so  she 
could  try.  I  believe  if  they  could  get  Andy  into 
their  hands  they  would  kill  him.  Is  it  not  infa- 
mous that,  in  defiance  of  the  law  of  Congress, 
our  generals  in  command  will  go  their  utmost 
length  to  help  to  catch  and  return  the  slaves  of 
traitors  now  in  tlie  Confederate  army  ? 

Oct.  16,  1862.  This,  dear  wife,  is  my  fifty- 
first  birthday,  and  I  had  for  my  dinner  a  green 
apple  pie,  which  I  ate  from  the  speaker's  desk, 
sitting  in  the  speaker's  chair  of  the  Representa- 
tive's Hall,  in  the  State  Capitol  of  Tennessee. 
A  fiddler  was  in  the  Senate  Chamber  ;  soldiers 
were  dancing,  playing  cards,  or  asleep  ;  women 
were  selling  cakes  and  pies.  I  could  not  but  re- 
member that  here,  by  vote  of  traitors,  a  large 
majority  of  the  people  of  Tennessee  were  bound 
hand  and  foot  to  the  Confederacy,  and  if  the  hall 
had  not  first  been  filled  with  vile  orators,  it  would 
not  now  be  occupied  by  armed  soldiers.  Soap 
and  water  will  remove  the  filth  left  by  the  sol- 
diers, but  blood  alone  will  wash  out  the  stain  and 
pollution  of  treason.  After  eating  my  dinner, 
and  then  at  the  desk  offering  a  silent  prayer  for 
13 


194  FROM    ROCKFORD    TO    HIS    REST. 

the  success   of  our  cause  and  freedom  and  jus- 
tice, I  went  away. 

From  a  camp  to  the  south-east,  come,  low  and 
soft  from  the  distance,  yet  clear  and  distinct,  the 
tones  of  "  Sweet  Home  "  sung  by  a  multitude  of 
manly  voices,  and  doubtless  the  deep-felt  utter- 
ance of  brave,  manly  hearts.     There  is  no  place 
like  home.     But  its  sanctity  and  blessedness  are 
dependent   upon  that  Christian  civilization    and 
those  principles  of  justice,  freedom,  and  virtue 
for  which  we  are  contending  under  the  flag  of 
our  country.     So  the  love  of  home  requires  pa- 
.  tient  endurance  of  separation  from  it,  for  its  own 
sake,  and  love  of  the  dear  ones  keeps  us  away 
from  them  while  almost  dying  to  be  with  them. 

{To  his  Son.) 

Nashville,  Tenn.,  Sept.  6,  1862.  As  you  have 
enlisted,  I  doubt  not,  from  honorable  motives,  I 
am  anxious  for  you  to  do  the  best  possible.  You 
will,  in  the  army,  see  more  of  coarse  vice  than 
you  have  ever  met  with  before,  —  profanity,  gam- 
bling, stealing,  lying,  drunkenness  in  camp,  than 
you  have  ever  imagined.  You  will  be  beset  by 
temptation  to  these  vices  in  one  way  or  another, 


FROM   ROCKFORD   TO    HIS   REST.  195 

by  example  and  solicitation  every  day  and  almost 
every  hour.     Remember  the  sayings  of  Pope,  — 

"  Vice  is  a  monster  of  so  frightful  mien, 
As  to  be  hated  needs  but  to  be  seen  ; 
Yet  seen  too  oft,  famUiar  with  her  face, 
We  first  endure,  then  pity,  then  embrace." 

To  keep  aloof  from  these  vices,  will  require 
more  vigilance  than  the  night  watch  for  the  ene- 
my, and  more  courage  than  to  face  the  rebels  in 
fight.  To  go  through  the  service  and  preserve 
the  purity  and  integrity  of  your  character  unim- 
paired, will  be  a  higher  honor,  and  the  proof  of 
greater  bravery  than  other  that  can  be  obtained 
or  exhibited.  I  know  a  few  young  men  in  our 
regiment  who  do  keep  their  manliness  unim- 
paired, who  neither  swear,  nor  gamble,  nor 
drink  liquor,  nor  indulge  in  other  low  vices,  and 
they  have  the  respect  and  esteem  of  all.  Even 
those  who  would  like  to  be  kept  in  countenance 
by  having  the  force  of  their  example  cannot  help 
respecting  them.  I  hope  you  will  do  your  coun- 
try the  service  of  setting  an  example  of  moral 
heroism  and  soldierly  good  conduct. 

(To  his  Wife.) 

Nashville, Tenn.,Oct.  5, 1862.     I  have  in  posses- 
sion a  little  bit  of  white  silk  thread  which  I  carry 


196  FROM   ROCKFORD   TO    HIS   REST. 

a  large  part  of  the  time  in  my  bosom,  and  often 
take  out  and  look  at,  and  after  bringing  it  very 
near  my  lips  put  it  back.  Isn't  that  que  r  ? 
What  do  you  suppose  it  means  ?  Do  you  give  it 
up  ?  Well,  I  may  as  well  tell  you  a  little  more 
about  it ;  that  little  bit  of  silk  thread  ties  up  a 
tiny  lock  of  hair,  and  the  lock  of  hair  is  in  a 
papier  mache  daguerrotype  case  containing  the 
picture  of  a  mother  and  daughter.  Ah,  you  will 
guess  the  rest,  and  how,  in  the  absence  of  the 
originals,  the  heart  in  its  yearnings  gives  way  to 
image  worship,  and  pictures  get  the  kisses  love 
would  give  the  dear  ones,  made  by  a  year  of 
separation  to  seem  more  dear  than  ever  before. 
It  can  hardly  be  helped  this  image  worship,  and 
I  have  learned  to  reconcile  it  with  my  Unitarian- 
ism,  and  think  it  no  sinful  idolatry,  but  rather 
akin  to  true  Christian  devotion  by  acceptance  of 
the  philosophy  of  the  German  D.  D.,  who  said  that 
he  loved  God  in  his  wife  and  children.  I  believe 
that  is  a  kind  of  piety  which  comes  natural  to 
me,  and  the  exercise  of  which  is  quite  sponta- 
neous. My  wife  and  children,  ah,  how  large  a 
space  they  fill  in  the  world  of  my  thoughts  and 
affections !     How  much  of  the  heaven  of  mem- 


FROM    ROCKPORD   TO    HIS   REST.  197 

cry  and  of  hope  takes  the  blessedness  from  them, 
and  has  its  sanctity  and  joy  bound  up  with  them ! 

Nashville,  Tenn.,  Nov.  23, 1862.  I  preached  to- 
day a  sermon  on  the  times.  I  had  nearly  a  dozen 
of  chaplains  and  Methodist  ministers  to  hear  me, 
and  a  good  audience  of  soldiers  and  citizens.  My 
text  was,  "  The  night  is  far  spent,  the  day  is  at 
hand  ;  let  us,  therefore,  put  off  the  works  of  dark- 
ness, and  let  us  put  on  the  armor  of  light."  My 
sermon  was  much  of  it  written,  but  the  last  part 
of  it  unwritten.  I  believe  it  gave  very  great  satis- 
faction, and  hope  that  some  truth  fell  like  living 
seed  into  good  and  fruitful  soil. 

Dec.  6,  1862.  I  have  been  hesitating  which 
would  be  most  "  pious,"  —  to  go  and  hear  Meth- 
odist preaching  in  the  chapel  about  a  mile  from 
our  camp,  or  to  sit  down  and  write  to  you.  On  the 
whole,  I  have  concluded  I  would  do  both ;  I  be- 
gan as  above  before  meeting,  and  now  after  meet- 
ing I  go  on  to  write  to  you.  I  am  glad  I  put  away 
my  letter  and  went  to  meeting,  for  I  have  heard 
not  Methodist  distinctively,  but  Christian  preach- 
ing on  "  trust  in  Providence."  I  got  a  far  better 
feast  of  good  things  than  I  expected. 


198  FROM   ROCKFORD   TO   HIS  REST. 

{To  his  Wife.) 

Dec.  21, 1862.  How  I  wish  I  could  be  with  you 
to  spend  Christmas  holidays,  but  it  is  no  use  to 
think  of  it  with  the  enemy  so  near  and  a  battle 
impending.  If  a  battle  should  be  fought,  and  I 
should  not  be  on  hand  to  care  for  the  wounded 
and  dying,  I  should  feel  guilty.  I  am  busy  enough. 
When  I  can  do  no  more  for  the  sick,  I  work  for 
the  well.  One  man  comes  to  me  with  a  new  axe 
and  a  handle  to  fit  in  it.  I  have  made  the  colonel, 
the  adjutant,  the  major,  and  myself  each  a  writing- 
table,  beside  ever  so  many  camp-stools  and  dinner- 
tables.  When  we  came  here,  I  found  a  stand  and 
camp-stool  among  the  stuff  that  I  had  made  in 
Nashville.  I  supposed  some  one  had  put  them  on  a 
baggage-wagon  for  me,  and  was  thankfully  carry- 
ing them  off,  but  a  colored  man  said  he  found 
them  and  carried  them  all  the  way  from  Nash- 
ville, six  miles,  on  his  head,  so  I  allowed  his  claim ; 
then  he  divided  the  plunder,  giving  me  the  stool. 
I  feel  dreadfully  at  times,  saddened,  sickened, 
and  disgusted  at  the  doings  of  war.  But  bad  as 
it  is,  the  injustice  and  oppression  perpetrated  for 
ages  is  worse,  so  if  the  war  be  needful  to  that 


PROM   ROCKFORD   TO    HIS   REST.  199 

justice,  mercy,  and  truth,  which  is  the  kingdom 
of  God,  we  must  fight  till  his  kingdom  come. 

This  was  the  tenor  of  our  chaplain's  life  in 
camp,  so  long  as  he  was  spared  for  the  service ; 
sick  at  heart  sometimes  at  the  things  he  saw 
about  him,  longing  to  get  home  again,  if  it  were 
only  for  a  day,  to  see  the  wife  and  children,  and 
especially  the  little  child  he  had  never  seen,  that 
was  born  after  he  went  to  the  wars,  and  when  the 
rest  of  his  children  had  grown  to  be  men  and 
woman.  He  never  did  see  that  little  one  in 
this  world  at  all ;  it  was  baptized  in  the  room 
where  he  lay  dead,  and  the  vase  that  held  the 
baptismal  water  rested  on  his  coffin  ;  and  then, 
not  long  after  that,  the  child  himself  was  taken 
by  the  angels  to  the  arms  of  the  father  who  had 
longed  so  to  see  and  hold  him  on  this  earth. 
But  Mr.  Conant's  life  in  the  camp,  as  my  readers 
will  notice,  was  not  without  fine  encouragements 
and  cheerful  aspects.  The  boy  Andy  who  had 
come  to  him  out  of  bondage,  and  was  a  very 
handy  Andy  indeed,  —  a  capital  washerman, 
ironer,  and  cook,  a  great  hand  at  making  black- 
berry wine,  and  many  other  delectable  things,  and 
who  always  brought  his  water  to  camp  riding  on 


200  FROM    ROCKFORD   TO    HIS   REST. 

horseback,  with  the  tub  on  his  head,  —  this  Andy 
was  an  endless  interest  to  him.  He  taught  him 
to  read  and  write,  and  what  could  be  got  into 
him  beside  of  the  humanities,  —  entered  keenly 
into  his  domestic  troubles  and  trials,  and  brought 
him  along  to  a  good  estate. 

The  officers'  wives,  too,  whenever  they  were  in 
camp,  were  great  allies  and  helpers  to  him  ;  "  they 
are  worth  more,"  he  says,  "  than  a  file  of  soldiers, 
in  keeping  the  men  in  order.  He  wishes  there 
could  be  twice  as  many  ladies  with  them  all  the 
time,  "  though  it  is  no  place  for  a  woman  of  deli- 
cate nerves.  Yet  a  strong-minded  and  pure- 
hearted  woman,"  he  adds,  "may  pass  through  it 
all  unharmed.  Mrs.  Turchin  blooms  like  a  fair 
flower  in  it.  She  reminds  me  very  much  of  Lucy 
Stone  Blackwell,  has  all  the  refinement  of  a  lady, 
with  the  energy  and  self-reliance  of  a  man  ;  is 
able  to  take  charge  of  herself,  carries  a  nice  little 
revolver  and  dagger  in  her  belt,  and  has  a  dignity 
of  manner  and  bearing  that  secures  respect  from 
the  roughest  soldiers." 

Sometimes  he  got  a  fine  chance  for  a  sermon 
that  was  not  exactly  within  strict  theological 
lines,  as  one  day  when  he  found  the  soldiers  had 


FROM   ROCKFORD   TO    HIS   REST.  201 

no  straw  to  sleep  on,  and  were  getting  sick  for 
want  of  it ;  while  those  that  should  have  provid- 
ed it  were  slack  about  their  duty.  He  preached 
from  the  text,  Exodus  fifth  chapter,  sixteenth 
verse.  "  There  is  no  straw  given  unto  thy  ser- 
vants." 

He  went  on,  as  we  have  seen,  to  say  in  his 
sermon  that  in  this  time,  also,  it  was  hard  to 
get  along  without  straw.  Sleeping  on  the  bare 
ground  was  bringing  colds,  rheumatism,  and 
consumption  among  the  men,  and  a  man  with 
any  one  of  these  ailments  could  not  be  a  good 
soldier.  This  was  bad  again  in  a  moral  sense, 
because  discomfort  brought  on  bad  temper,  and 
in  a  bad  temper,  the  men  would  say  bad  things. 
He  told  the  officers  they  ought  to  do  all  in 
their  power  for  the  comfort  and  welfare  of  the 
men,  and  the  men  that  they  could  take  better 
care  than  they  were  taking  of  themselves.  They 
could  buy  a  tick  with  the  money  they  spent  in 
whiskey,  fill  it  with  leaves  or  corn-husks,  and 
get  along,  if  they  had  to,  without  straw.  The 
best  help,  after  all,  was  self-help.  "I  want  you," 
he  concluded,  "  to  have  faith  in  a  good  bed,  good 
food,  and   wholesome  drink,  and  that  will  help 


202      FROM  ROCKFORD  TO  HIS  REST. 

you  to  have  faith  in  every  other  good  thing,  be- 
cause the  gospel  of  God's  grace  to  the  body  pre- 
pares the  way  for  his  grace  to  come  into  the  soul. 
Next  day  a  farmer  was  found  who  had  some 
sacks  of  grain  ready  for  threshing,  who  would  be 
glad  to  supply  some  straw  if  the  soldiers  would 
help  to  thresh  ;  it  did  not  take  long  after  that  for 
the  men  to  get  all  the  straw  they  wanted. 

The  trouble  Mr.  Moody  made  him,  as  the 
reader  will  gather,  was  very  grievous  while  it 
lasted.  The  exquisite  illustration  he  hits  on,  in 
one  of  his  letters,  in  supposing  that  another  doc- 
tor without  diploma,  or  any  other  authority  than 
his  own  say  so,  should  come  into  camp  and  begin 
to  tell  the  men  that  their  own  physician,  trained 
and  accredited  to  his  office,  was  still  unfit  for  it, 
and  that  he  was  the  man,  is  right  to  the  point ; 
but  he  got  over  this  trouble  as  he  did  over  every 
other,  did  his  duty  with  a  full-hearted  faithful- 
ness, and  won  at  last  the  confidence  and  esteem 
even  of  those  who  had  been  stirred  up  against 
him,  and  so  1862  drew  to  a  close.  This  letter 
will  tell  how  the  new  year  opened. 


FROM    ROCKFORD   TO    HIS    REST.  203 

In  the  Hospital,  ox  the  Battle-Field, 

Near  Murfkeesbo hough,  Tenn.,  Jan.  2d,  1863. 

Dear  Wife,  —  We  have  been  fighting  three 
days  nearly  on  the  same  ground,  and  the  battle 
is  not  yet  decided.  I  suppose  you  will  hear  of  it, 
and  feel  anxious  about  our  safety.  I  write  to 
say  that  I  am  yet  unharmed,  and  that  I  saw  our 
dear  son,  Neray,  after  the  severest  of  the  fight, 
in  which  his  regiment  was  engaged  the  day  be- 
fore yesterday,  about  noon,  and  he  was  unhurt, 
also,  though  he  had  been  in  a  hot  battle,  and,  as 
Col.  Marsh  said,  ''  had  fought  like  a  tiger."  I 
took  a  cup  of  tea  with  him  while  the  storm  of 
battle  was  roaring  like  the  seven  thunders  ;  his 
regiment  had  been  so  badly  broken  up  and  scat- 
tered that  I  do  not  think  they  were  again  brought 
into  the  hardest  of  the  fighting,  so  I  hope  he  is 
still  safe.  There  was  constant  skirmishing,  and 
our  hospital,  being  in  rather  a  central  position  on 
the  battle-field,  was  a  good  deal  of  the  time  be- 
tween the  two  fires.  Since  I  began  writing,  our 
skirmishers  have  been  firing  at  tlie  rebels ;  but 
now  they  have  fallen  back,  and  the  rebels  are 
about  the  hospital  firing  at  them.  We  have  over 
one  hundred  wounded  men  in  the  house,  Federal 
and  Confederates  togetlier,  and  both  sides  try  not 


204  FROM    ROCKFORD   TO    HIS   REST. 

to  hit  the  hospital.  I  worked  all  night  till  four 
o'clock  ill  the  morning  night  before  last,  bring- 
ing in  the  wounded  from  the  battle-field,  and 
while  the  ambulance  was  taking  a  load,  I  gener- 
ally remained  out  in  the  woods  or  fields,  building 
fires  for  the  comfort  of  the  poor  fellows  who 
were  waiting  to  be  taken  in,  and  also  hunting 
them  up.  While  so  employed,  I  was  made  a 
prisoner  by  a  Confederate  colonel,  and  my  am- 
bulance and  assistants  were  also  captured  ;  but 
we  told  tliem  what  we  were  doing,  so,  after  some 
parley,  they  concluded  to  let  us  all  go  and  keep 
about  our  work.  Just  now,  as  I  wrote,  the 
rebels  were  in  the  yard,  —  now,  again,  our  own 
men  are  here,  and  the  house  jars  and  the  win- 
dows rattle  with  the  discharge  of  artillery  close 
by  us.  We  are  surrounded  with  a  wall  of  fire, 
and  I  can  hear  the  balls  sing  and  the  shells  burst 
as  I  write ;  but  our  work  of  mercy  is  our  protec- 
tion ;  we  shall  be  hit  only  by  accident.  I  need  not 
dwell  on  this.  I  have  often  been  impatient  be- 
cause I  have  had  so  little  to  do  ;  but  the  oppor- 
tunity to  help  those  in  need  on  this  battle-field 
pays  for  all  delays.  You  cannot  imagine  how 
much   I   have    enjoyed    for   the   last    forty-eight 


FROM  ROCKFORD  TO  HIS  REST.      205 

hours  in  helping  friend  and  foe.  Wlien  captured, 
I  made  some  of  the  Confederates  help  me  to  bring 
a  wounded  Ohio  soldier  to  a  fire,  and  as  we 
clasped  hands  beneath  him,  I  told  him  we  would 
take  one  brotherly  gripe,  if  we  never  did  again. 
It  was  the  best  right  hand  of  fellowship  I  ever 
gave  or  received.  Now  I  must  hasten  to  my 
duties,  and  will  write  more  when  more  at  leisure, 
the  good  Lord  willing. 

Your  affectionate  husband, 

A.  IT.  CONANT. 

Brigade  Hospital,  Battle-Field, 

Near  Murfreesborough,  Tenn.,  Jan.  5tli,  1863. 

Dear  Wife,  —  The  storm  of  battle  is  at  last  over, 
and  I  have  the  happiness  to  inform  you  that 
Neray  and  myself  are  still  unharmed.  I  wrote 
you  the  day  before  yesterday,  while  the  fight 
was  going  on,  and  we  knew  not  which  way  the 
tide  of  battle  would  turn.  Yesterday  afternoon  it 
was  found  that  the  Confederate  army  had  re- 
turned from  Murfreesborough,  and  at  sunset  we 
heard  the  distant  roar  of  our  artillery  hurrying 
up  their  flying  footsteps.  I  went  to-night  toward 
that  part  of  the  field  where  the  19th  Regiment 
were  camped  to  learn  their  condition,  then  re- 


206  FROM   ROCKFORD   TO    HIS   REST. 

turned  to  the  hospital  by  way  of  the  camp  of  the 
74th  Illinois,  and  saw  Neray  safe  and  well.  Since 
I  wrote  you,  I  have  been  acting  assistant  surgeon, 
nurse,  and  messenger,  and  liavo  felt  tliat  my 
opportunities  of  helping  those  in  need  liave  ricli- 
ly  paid  for  all  the  delay  and  discontent  of  the 
past.  I  think  I  must  set  down  the  last  night  of 
the  old  year  and  the  morning  of  the  new,  passed 
in  the  woods  on  the  battle-field  gathering  up  and 
bringing  in  the  wounded  men,  as  the  grandest 
and  happiest  night  of  my  life.  I  wanted  to  stay  in 
Nashville  and  work  in  the  hospital  when  our 
army  left  there,  and  tried  to  get  a  situation,  and 
could  not ;  made  up  my  mind  that  something 
else  was  in  store  for  me,  and  so  it  is  turned  out. 
I  have  been  permitted  to  do  more  and  better  than 
1  could  hope. 

Your  loving  husband. 

A.  H.  CONANT. 

At  the  Hospital  Battle-Field, 

Near  Murfreesborough,  Texn.  (no  date.) 

Dear  Mother,  —  Before  this  I  suppose  you 
have  received  father's  letter  about  his  sickness, 
and  are  anxious  to  hear  from  him  ;  his  doctor  says 
that  he  thinks  he  is  doing  very  well.     I  am  with 


PROM  ROCKFORD  TO  HIS  REST.      207 

him,  and  shall  stay  with  him  until  he  is  well ;  he 
has  a  good  place  and  as  good  care  and  nursing  as 
I  can  give  him.  The  doctors  and  nurses  are  very 
kind,  and  all  try  to  do  what  they  can  for  him. 
His  disease  is  inflammation  of  the  lungs,  caught 
from  overwork  during  the  battle.  I  saw  him  a 
number  of  times  as  the  battle  went  on,  and 
tried  to  persuade  him  not  to  do  so  much ;  but  he 
said  he  could  not  bear  to  see  wounded  soldiers 
suffer  when  he  could  help  them.  I  am  very 
thankful  that  I  am  where  I  can  do  him  good  ser- 
vice. He  seems  to  feel  that  he  had  done  his  duty 
faithfully  to  the  full  extent  of  his  power. 
Yours  in  haste  and  in  love. 

Neray  Conant. 

In  Hospital,  Jan.  28th,  1863. 

Dear  Mother  and  Sister,  —  Father  is  improv- 
ing slowly,  and  is  able  to  sit  up  in  a  large  rocking- 
chair,  bolstered  up  with  pillows ;  this  position 
suits  him  better  than  any  other.  I  have  a  little 
currant  wine  that  1  give  him,  which  seems  to 
help  him  quite  as  much  as  medicine.  I  hope  as 
soon  as  he  is  able  to  travel  that  he  can  get  a  fur- 
lough and  come  home  ;  they  are  sending  sick  and 
wounded  soldiers  home  on    furlough  now ;   but 


208  FROM   ROCKFORD   TO    HIS   REST. 

you  must  not  set  your  heart  on  his  coming,  be- 
cause he  does  not  much  expect  to  get  a  furlough, 
and  says  that  by  the  time  he  is  well  enougli 
to  go  home  he  will  be  fit  for  duty  ;  but  that  I 
doubt.  Your  loving  son  and  brother, 

Neray  Conant. 

P.  S.  —  1  have  one  wounded  Confederate  in  my 
ward  ;  he  behaves  himself  very  well,  and  has  just 
as  good  care  and  attention  as  any  of  our  men. 
He  would  have  frozen  to  death,  but  for  father's 
care,  on  the  battle-field ;  as  it  was,  he  froze  his 
feet  badly.  Father  built  him  a  fire,  and  gave  him 
two  or  three  blankets  to  keep  him  warm  until  he 
had  time  to  come  and  fetch  him  away. 

N.  C. 

But  the  end  had  come,  the  time  of  his  depar 
ture  was  at  hand. 

On  the  6th  he  still  seemed  a  little  better,  but 
had  a  feeling  that  he  could  not  recover,  and  said 
to  Neray,  his  loving  and  tender  nurse,  "  I  shall 
not  probably  live  ;  but  I  have  no  fear  of  death.  I 
am  ready  and  willing  to  go  at  any  time  God  may 
call  me,  and,  but  for  the  pain  of  the  separation 
from  you  and  the  dear  ones  at  home,  I  should 


PROM   ROCKPORD   TO   HIS  REST.  209 

have  no  wish  to  live.  But  tlie  good  Father,  who 
watches  over  us  all,  will  care  for  and  protect  you 
when  I  am  gone." 

On  the  afternoon  of  the  7th,  he  had  a  relapse, 
though  without  apparent  cause.  The  doctor 
said  it  was  a  change  from  which  he  feared  he 
could  not  recover,  but  did  all  that  possibly  could 
be  done.  Opiates  were  given  him  to  alleviate  the 
pain  ;  from  the  effects  of  these  he  fell  into  a  stu- 
por, in  which  he  remained  until  his  death,  uncon- 
scious except  when  aroused.  On  Sunday,  the  8th, 
an  old  friend  came  to  see  him.  I  aroused  him, 
and  asked  him  if  he  knew  who  it  was  ;  he  looked 
up  with  one  of  his  peculiarly  sweet  smiles  and  said, 
"  Why,  yes  !  that  is  Mr.  Gilbert."  These  were 
his  last  words  ;  he  sank  back  into  unconscious- 
ness at  a  quarter  before  one  o'clock,  "  and  hav- 
ing served  his  generation  he  fell  on  sleep." 

"  And  I  heard  a  voice  from  heaven  saying 
unto  me,  Write,  Blessed  are  the  dead  who  die  in, 
the  Lord  from  henceforth  :  Yea,  saith  the  Spirit 
that  they  may  rest  from  their  labors,  and  their 
works  do  follow  them."  "  For  which  cause  we 
faint  not,  but  though  our  outward  man  perish, 
yet  the  inward  is  renewed  day  by  day,  while  we 

14 


210  FROM    ROCKFORD   TO    HIS   REST. 

look  not  at  the  things  which  are  seen,  but  at  the 
things  which  are  not  seen,  for  the  things  which 
are  seen  are  temporal,  but  the  things  which  are 
not  seen  are  eternal." 


WHAT   WAS  SAID  AT  THE  GRAYE-SIDE. 


OUR  HONORED  DUST. 

A  SERMON  PREACHED  AT  THE  FUNERAL  OF  THE  REV.  A.  H. 
CONAVT,  CHA.PLAIN  OF  THE  19TH  REGIMENT,  ILLINOIS  VOLUN- 
TEERS,  BY  ROBERT  COLLYER,  FEB.   17,   1863. 

"  They  buried  him  among  the  kings,  because  he  had  done  good  both 
toward  God  and  toward  his  house."  — 2  Chron.  xxiv.  16. 

This  was  a  noble  history  and  a  noble  end.  It 
is  also  a  most  touching  and  suggestive  summary 
of  the  nature  and  consequences  of  a  good  life. 
The  man  had  done  good,  both  in  the  nation  and 
in  the  Church  :  so,  when  he  died,  the  nation  and 
the  Church  joined  to  honor  his  dust.  They 
buried  him  among  the  kings.  It  is  perhaps 
twenty-seven  hundred  years  since  those  Hebrews 
stood  weeping  beside  all  that  was  left  on  this 
earth  of  the  good  citizen  and  servant  of  God. 
The  frame  that  held  and  answered  to  the  biddino; 
of  the  strong  and  beautiful  soul  has  long  entered 
into  other  forms.     It  is  — 


212       WHAT   WAS    SAID    AT   THE   GRAVE-SIDE. 

"  Blo-n-n  about  the  desert  dust, 

And  seale<i  among  the  iron  hills." 

It  has  risen  into  grass  and  flowers,  palm-trees, 
corn,  and  vines.  The  sepulchres  of  the  kings  are 
lost  or  doubtful ;  the  sacred  seal  is  broken,  the 
sacred  associations  forgotten.  "  The  outward 
man  perisheth  ;  but  the  inward  man  is  renewed 
day  by  day."  Jehoida  (known  of  Jehovah) 
can  never  be  forgotten.  Little  children  spell 
his  name  painfully,  and  say  after  it,  "  He  was 
buried  among  kings,  because  he  had  done  good." 
Young  men  read,  and  are  touched  with  a  holier 
ambition ;  men  in  the  thick  of  a  good  life,  and 
a  little  disheartened,  take  some  fresh  courage. 
When  the  people  had  buried  him,  and  the  scribes 
had  recorded  his  name  in  the  temple-rolls,  they 
left  him  to  his  rest.  The  sepulchre  was  sealed  ; 
the  busy  life  began  again.  All  the  men  died  that 
had  ever  known  him.  Time  gnawed  the  wood, 
rusted  the  iron,  faded  the  ink,  burnt  the  parch- 
ment, burnt  the  temple,  scattered  the  nation  far 
and  wide.  Time  could  not  touch  the  good  name 
and  fame  itself.  It  was  sown  in  the  weakness  of 
marble  and  parchment  and  poor  human  memo- 
ries ;  it  is  raised  in  the  power  of  a  great  unfad- 


WHAT   WAS    SAID    AT   THE   GRAVE-SIDE.        213 

ing  history,  touched  with  the  mystery  of  a  divine 
inspiration,  committed  as  a  most  sacred  trust  to 
the  most  trusty  races  on  the  globe,  translated 
into  all  tongues,  read  in  all  countries.  Mortality 
is  swallowed  up  of  life,  "  because  he  had  done 
good  both  toward  God  and  toward  his  house." 

Now,  friends,  we  meet  in  some  such  relation  as 
this  to-day,  to  look  for  the  last  time  on  the  face, 
and  to  mourn  the  loss,  of  as  good  a  man  as  we 
have  ever  known,  who  has  fallen  in  the  first  au- 
tumn days  of  his  life.  We  meet  in  this  lonely 
outpost  church,  where  for  so  many  years  the 
Master,  walking  among  the  golden  candlesticks, 
found  him  always  in  his  place  ;  and,  as  he  blessed 
him,  said  ever,  "  Because  thou  hast  labored,  and 
hast  not  fainted."  We  meet  with  the  father  who 
held  his  first-born  with  the  ever-wondering,  clumsy 
tenderness  of  the  man,  trembling  over  the  sacred 
trust ;  with  the  dear  one  wlio  has  been  to  him  as 
his  own  life  for  more  than  six  and  twenty  years ; 
with  the  children  who  have  grown  up,  in  the  near 
presence  of  his  love,  to  the  full  estate  of  man  and 
woman  ;  and  with  the  little  babe,  the  infant  of 
days,  that  he  has  never  seen,  and  who  will  not  see 
him  now,  until,  in  the  good  time  of  God,  the  voice 


214         WHAT   WAS   SAID    AT   THE   GRAVE-SIDE. 

shall  say,  "  Behold  thy  sou  !  "  as  they  both  stand 
near  the  cross  no  longer,  but  the  throne.  The 
vision  is  full  of  pathetic  groupings  ;  the  natural 
impulse  is  to  weep.  Death  always  touches  the 
gathered  treasure  of  tears  in  some  heart.  One 
wept  for  the  vile  Roman,  whose  life  was  one  deep 
execration.  Then  how  near  to  the  deepest  spring 
of  tears  we  stand  to-day  !  A  man,  so  good,  dead! 
Father,  mother,  wife,  children,  the  church  conse- 
crated by  his  ministry,  the  fair  country  town  that 
came  up  with  him  out  of  the  wilderness,  all  sit- 
ting in  the  shadow  of  death  ! 

And  I  cannot  tell  you  not  to  weep.  A  good 
man  may  hide  his  tears  as  he  hides  his  most 
sacred  prayers ;  but  a  good  man  will  no  more 
try  not  to-  weep,  in  some  sorrows,  than  he  will 
try  not  to  pray  in  some  sorrows.  There  is  a 
tearless  philosophy,  as  there  is  a  prayerless 
philosophy  ;  but  both  alike  are  far  removed  from 
nature  and  from  God.  It  is  surely  not  unmanly 
in  me  to  do  either  this  or  that  after  the  manliest 
man  that  ever  stood  beside  a  grave.  For  tears 
are  often  the  sweet  waters  of  the  nature,  turning 
themselves  into  blossoms  of  hope  and  trust,  if  we 
let  them  flow  outward  ;  but,  if  we  keep  them  im- 


WHAT    WAS    SAID    AT   THE    GRAVE-SIDE.         215 

prisoned  in  the  heart,  turning  to  a  black  bitter- 
ness and  decay.  Alas  even  for  Judas,  when  he 
finds  he  cannot  weep !  I  think  the  recording 
angel  waits  for  the  tears  of  the  vilest,  and  cannot 
write  down  sentence  against  a  broken  heart ;  but 
tears,  falling  from  good  men's  eyes  for  a  good 
man  dead,  are  a  sacrament.  I  think,  when  the 
angels,  jealous  for  the  sanctities  of  heaven,  see 
them,  they  whisper,  ^'  Behold,  how  they  loved 
him  !  We  must  make  him  free  of  our  guild  ; 
the  orders  of  the  angels  are  all  possible  to  a  man 
for  whom  strong-hearted  men  weep." 

And  yet,  friends,  I  had  not  spoken  here  to-day, 
if  I  had  no  better  solace  tlian  this  possibility  of 
tears  to  offer  you.  There  must  be  some  other 
and  higher  thing  than  sorrow  in  such  a  presence 
as  this.  Life  is  not  laid  out  in  squares  —  to-day 
so  much  sorrow,  to-morrow  so  much  joy  —  on 
its  most  ordinary  levels.  How  much  more,  how 
much  more  now,  may  we  hope  for  some  great  in- 
timations of  solemn  rapture  !  That  is  a  won- 
derful history,  my  brother,  read  you,  when  you 
study  it,  as  it  opens  inward  to  the  soul.  We 
stand  beside  our  dead  ;  we  believe  them  dead ; 
and,  lo,  they  are  not  dead  I    We  cry  out  piteous- 


216       WHAT   WAS   SAID    AT   THE   GRAVE-SIDE. 

ly,  "  Lord,  if  thou  hadst  been  here,  my  brother 
had  not  died."  By  and  by,  the  Lord  answers 
very  quietly,  "He  that  believeth  in  me,  though 
he  were  dead,  yet  shall  he  live."  We  cry, 
"  Lord,  it  is  impossible :  he  has  been  dead  four 
days  !  —  four  days  !  "  The  Lord  replies,  "  Come 
forth !  "  and  he  that  was  dead  comes  forth. 
When  the  first  crushing  blow  falls,  we  feel  about, 
bewildered,  crying,  "  My  brother  is  dead  I  "  But 
we  cannot  hold  out  against  the  gleams  of  the  im- 
mortal life :  just  as  he  was  near  to  Christ,  so 
surely  comes  our  sense  of  his  blessed  resurrec- 
tion.    The  poet  sings,  — 

"  Behold  a  man  raised  up  by  Clirist! 
The  rest  remaineth  unrevealed : 
He  told  it  not,  or  something  sealed 
The  lips  of  the  evangelist." 

0  poet!  wise  in  the  workings  of  the  human 
heart,  why  did  thy  sight  fail  here  ?  It  is  re- 
vealed,—  it  is  an  open  secret  to  the  Christian, — 
it  is  an  open  secret  to-day.  Jesus  said,  ''  He 
that  liveth  and  believeth  in  me  shall  never  die." 
And  yet,  friends,  I  am  not  sure  that  even  this  is 
the  loftiest  reach  of  this  time.     Is  there  not  some 


WHAT   WAS   SAID    AT   THE   GRAVE-SIDE.        217 

better  thing  reserved  for  us  ?  I  love  this  insight 
of  the  good  old  Scriptures,  that  will  permit  no 
struggle  between  the  mortal  and  the  immortal 
life,  when  this  life  is  once  well  done  ;  tliat  will 
not  permit  even  Messiah  to  raise  any  other  than  a 
young  man  or  a  young  damsel  from  the  dead  ; 
that  seem  to  say  to  us,  "  There  is  one  thing 
sacred,  even  from  the  disturbance  of  what  you 
call  miracle ;  and  that  is  a  life  over  which  God 
has  cast  the  full  "  Well  done  ! "  There  is  no 
questioning  whether  Isaiah  or  Daniel  or  Paul  or 
John  shall  take  up  again  with  the  deserted  taber- 
nacle, and  reassume  the  old  habitual  life.  Let 
the  life  be  once  hid  with  Christ  in  God,  and 
miracle  is  powerless  against  it.  There  is  no  de- 
batable border-land,  when  once  the  soul  shall 
have  put  on  her  new  robes,  and  sings,  ''  I  have 
finished  my  course."  Blessed  and  holy  is  he 
that  has  part  in  the  first  resurrection.  The  scene 
before  me  has  this  look  of  perfect  holiness.  My 
friend  impresses  me  in  this  way.  He  has  fought 
a  good  fight ;  he  has  finished  his  course  ;  he  has 
kept  the  faith:  henceforth  there  is  laid  up  for 
him  a  crown  of  righteousness. 

And  I  say  this  in  the  full  knowledge  of  how 


218        WHAT   WAS   SAID    AT   THE   GRAVE-SIDE. 

earnestly  he  would  plead  that  I  would  not  say  it, 
if  this  dust  could  speak  for  him,  and  lie  were 
still  by  our  side ;  and,  if  he  were  still  here,  I 
would  not  say  so  openly.  But  when  once  a 
good  man  has  gone  up  to  God,  I  think  he  in- 
stantly assumes  a  new  relation.  His  life  after 
that  is  not  his  own,  but  a  legacy  to  the  world, 
worth  so  much.  If  he  could  come  back,  it  may 
be  he  would  say,  "  Tell  the  exact  truth  about 
me ;  tell  it  out  frankly.  If  I  have  fought  a  good 
fight,  and  it  was  right  for  Paul  to  say  so  of  him- 
self while  he  was  in  the  world,  it  cannot  be  wrong 
for  you  to  say  so  of  me  when  I  have  gone  out  of 
it."  I  propose,  therefore,  secondly,  to  say  why 
we  would  bury  this  dust  among  kings,  because  he 
has  done  good. 

I.  Our  friend's  life  was  full  of  a  good,  sweet, 
home-made,  every-day  goodness.  This  is  no 
place  to  contend  over  a  metaphysical  goodness  ; 
and  there  are  reaches  in  the  absolute  goodness, 
as  it  shines  in  the  face  of  God,  before  which  our 
Saviour  himself  shrank  back,  and  said,  "  Why 
callest  thou  me  good  ?  "  I  rejoice  in  the  fearful 
tenderness  of  the  best  evangelical  teaching  about 
what  is  to  be  counted  absolutely  a  good  life      It 


WHAT    WAS    SAID    AT   THE    TtRAVE-SIDE.        219 

is  far  better  that  we  should  all  feel  dissatisfied 
with  the  best  that  we  can  do,  and  cry  out  every 
day,  "  Not  that  I  have  already  attained,  or  am 
already  perfect,"  than  that  we  should  ever  say, 
''  God,  I  thank  thee  I  am  not  as  other  men." 
But  there  is  a  certain  homely  goodness  of  the 
common  life,  that  we  all  understand  and  honor, 
even  if  a  man  has  no  such  lofty  feelings.  I  mean 
the  goodness  that  lies  in  always  telling  the 
truth  ;  in  always  dealing  fairly  and  honestly ;  in 
being  ready  to  do  a  good  turn  or  two,  or  ten  or 
twenty,  for  the  same  man,  looking  for  nothing 
again;  in  being  trusty  as  a  neiglibor  and  friend, 
whichever  way  you  are  tried  ;  in  giving  and  for- 
giving ;  doing  a  fair  day's  work  for  a  fair  day's 
wages ;  in  being  so  pure  in  word  and  deed  that, 
if  a  petty  slander  is  set  afloat,  men  shall  never 
believe  it  possible  you  can  have  started  it ;  or  if 
a  sin  is  found  out,  and  not  the  sinner,  men  shall 
never  whisper,  "  You  may  have  done  it."  This, 
friends,  is  the  common,  natural  measure  of  good- 
ness for  the  common,  daily  life  of  a  man.  These 
things  are  the  square  foundations  upon  which  you 
must  build  the  tower  on  which  to  plant  your  lofti- 
est standard  of  goodness.    It  is  the  broad,  honest 


220         WHAT    WAS   SAID    AT   THE   GRAVE-SIDE. 

goodness  about  which  all  fair-minded  men  agree, 
whenever  they  do  anything  as  real  as  eating 
bread.  Take  any  other  goodness  witliout  tliis  ; 
then  take  this  without  that ;  put  tliem  before  a 
common  jury,  and  it  will  decide  the  case  in  a 
moment.  Where  this  goodness  is  not  found, 
open-eyed  men  do  not  seek  for  any  other. 
Friends,  this  is  a  sacred  place  and  a  solemn  time. 
It  is  said  of  an  old  nation  that  they  held  back 
from  bestowing  the  highest  honors  on  their  dead 
for  a  season,  so  that,  if  any  man  had  an  accusa- 
tion to  bring  against  the  memory,  he  should  be 
heard  ;  and,  if  it  were  proven,  the  honor  should 
not  be  given.  I  stand  by  the  dust  of  our  friend 
to-day.  Shall  we  bury  him  among  kings  because 
he  has  done  good  ?  He  has  gone  in  and  out  be- 
fore you  twenty-one  years;  you  have  known  him 
intimately.  He  must  have  had  his  errors  •  I 
declare  to  you  I  do  not  know  them ;  and  we 
ministers  are  commonly  kept  well  informed  about 
the  weak  side  of  our  brethren.  I  believe  the 
man  does  not  live  who  can  tarnish  his  name  by 
one  small  spot  of  real  dishonor.  I  call  you  to 
witness  this  day,  — you,  his  neighbors,  who  have 
known  liim  so  long  and  so  well, — I  stand  here 


WHAT   WAS    SAID    AT   THE   GRAVE-SIDE.         221 

your  spokesman,  and  declare  his  public,  open, 
common  life  in  Geneva  and  Rockford  untar- 
nished.    We  bury  him  among  kings. 

II.  Then,  I  say,  secondly,  he  was  a  good  Chris- 
tian. I  assume  to-day  no  peculiar  sanctity  for 
Unitarianism  over  any  other  faith  ;  but  in  the 
presence  of  this  dust,  I  bait  not  one  comma  froLu 
the  highest  claim.  What  men  can  attain  to  by 
faith  in  God  and  in  his  revelation,  I  claim  for  my 
friend.  The  question  of  a  wholesome  personal 
goodness,  that  finds  expression  in  kindly  offices 
and  loyalties,  is  open  to  all.  The  neiglil)orhood 
is  the  court  in  which  that  claim  of  our  life  is 
tried.  But  it  is  not  so  with  this.  The  mystical, 
spiritual  relation  of  the  soul  to  God  can  only  be 
fully  understood  by  the  soul  itself,  and  by  tliose 
to  wliom  the  soul  opens  in  her  moments  of  rare 
confidence.  "  No  man  knoweth  the  Father,  but 
the  Son,  and  he  to  whom  the  Son  will  reveal 
him."  I  count  that  the  most  hideous  of  all  big- 
otries that  would  question  the  Christianity  of 
any  man  .who  shall  do  justly,  love  mercy,  and 
walk  humbly  with  his  God.  The  soul  has  an  ab- 
solute right  to  say  where  she  will  seek  her  home 
in  beliefs  and  churches.     There  is  no  general  liu- 


222        WHAT   WAS   SAID    AT   THE    GRAVE-SIDE. 

man  way  to  test  a  belief,  as  it  enters  into  the  life 
of  a  man,  except  by  some  sncli  method  as  you 
test  a  fruit  or  a  flower.  Is  the  belief  higli,  pure, 
and  good,  can  only  be  answered  by  finding 
whether  the  life  is  high,  pure,  and  good.  Wliat 
is  sour  or  bitter  may  be  good  for  God,  and  in 
some  way  for  men  too  ;  but  we  decide  by  instinct 
for  the  goodness  of  what  is  pure,  sweet,  and  grate- 
ful, over  that  which  is  not  so.  We  prefer  the 
perfume  of  roses  and  the  taste  of  the  perfect 
apple  to  the  sting  of  the  nettle  and  the  acridity  of 
the  crab,  x  stand  here  to-day,  and  say,  tiiat,  by  all 
the  tests  that  can  be  applied  by  communities  of 
men,  our  friend  was  a  good  Christian.  Every  good 
Christian  grace  had  its  own  place  in  his  life.  He 
held  fast  by  all  that  he  believed  to  be  essential  in 
Christian  beliefs,  and  grew  by  their  power  and 
inspiration  into  the  high  Christian  soul,  whom  to 
know  was  to  love,  and  to  know  more  was  to  love 
more.  No  man  could  commune  with  him  of  the 
high  things  of  the  soul,  and  go  away  more  in  the 
dark,  or  with  his  trust  in  God  shaken,  or  witli 
his  conception  of  God  degraded,  or  with  lower 
ideas  of  Christ,  or  with  less  of  "  the  hate  ot 
hate,  and  love  of  love."     No  man  came  into  the 


WHAT   WAS   SAID  AT   THE   GRAVE-SIDE.       223 

near  communion  of  the  soul  with  him,  —  the  rev- 
elation of  the  Father  by  the  Son,  —  who  did  not 
feel  that  while  others  could  soar  higher,  and  stay- 
longer,  in  the  pure,  cold,  almost  breathless  regions 
of  religious  speculation,  no  Christian  soul  could 
help  you  more  than  this  could,  reminding  you  by 
its  direct  and  simple  realizations  of  those  little 
ones,  whose  angels  do  always  behold  the  face  of 
our  Father  which  is  in  heaven.  He  made  you 
feel  a  pleasant,  sunny  atmosphere  all  about  you, 
while  other  and  greater  men  would  liave  sent  you 
away  from  the  very  same  discussions  with  a  feel- 
ing of  dread.  I  count  this  among  the  best  things 
in  a  Christian  man.  This  atmosphere  of  sweet 
kindly  airs  and  rains  and  sunshine,  where  the 
very  clouds  fold  you  like  a  home,  and  the  night 
is  full  of  rest,  —  such,  in  a  singular  measure,  was 
the  Christian  life  of  our  friend.  He  was  good 
both  toward  God  and  toward  his  house. 

ni.  But  there  is  a  final  estimate  and  affirma- 
tion that  outreaches  all  this ;  and  that,  in  our 
friend,  was  the  crown  and  glory  of  his  life.  He 
was  not  only  a  good  man  in  the  common  goodness 
of  life,  and  a  good  Christian  spirit,  keeping  his 
soul  sacredly  open  to  God,  but  he  was  true  to  the 


224        WHAT   WAS    SAID    AT   THE   GRAVE-SIDE. 

great  trust  and  duty  of  his  life.  He  was  a  faith- 
ful minister  of  the  gospel,  "  always  abounding  in 
the  work  of  the  Lord."  This  story  of  the  good 
minister  would  be  deeply  interesting  if  I  could 
recite  it  from  first  to  last,  —  how,  when  he  was 
a  young  man,  holding  quite  another  belief  from 
that  which  afterward  became  the  inspiration  and 
fire  of  his  life,  he  happened  into  William  Clarke's 
store  in  Chicago  (I  say  happened,  because  I  see 
only  the  hither  side  of  Providence)  ;  how  there 
he  found  some  little  tracts,  that  touched  him  in 
some  higher  way  than  he  had  known  before  ;  how 
he  caught  from  them  new  glimpses  of  God  and 
the  Saviour  and  the  Sanctifier,  of  life  and  death, 
and  earth  and  heaven  and  hell ;  then  how  reso- 
lute he  was  to  follow  these  hints  of  cloud  by  day, 
and  fire  by  night,  until  finally  the  waters  were 
parted  for  him,  and  he  stood  in  the  promised 
land ;  and  then  how  he  went  to  Cambridge,  be- 
cause he  would  not  lay  hasty  hands  on  the  ark 
of  God,  and  fought  his  way  to  what  was  to  equip 
him  for  the  ministry,  —  poor,  brave,  cheerful,  un- 
tiring ;  how  generous  friends  gave  him  lifts  in 
secret,  delicate  ways,  as  is  the  use  of  your  ever- 
dear,  and  now  more  than  ever-dear,  New  England 


WHAT    WAS    SAID    AT   THE   GRAVE-SIDE.        225 

toward  such  earnest,  struggling  men  ;  finally, 
how  he  came  back  here  to  the  West  while  this  re- 
gion was  so  new,  and  planted  himself  where  we 
stand  to-day.  From  1842  to  1857,  he  made  your 
town  the  centre  of  an  influence  that  can  only  be 
known  in  the  great,  full  time  of  God.  Steadily, 
year  after  year,  as  he  found  time,  he  travelled  in 
all  directions  through  these  regions,  with  his  heart 
full  of  the  great  gospel  of  God,  and  his  hands  full 
of  such  printed  statements  of  it  as  can  be  made. 
I  saw  him  first  in  the  spring  of  1859.  He  came 
into  my  ofiice,  and,  holding  out  his  hand,  said, 
"  I  am  Conant,  of  Rockford."  I  had  never  heard 
the  name  before,  but  I  liked  the  honest,  good  face, 
the  moment  I  saw  it.  The  clear  eyes,  the  open 
brow,  the  kindly  voice,  —  they  were  very  sweet  to 
me,  for  I  was  a  stranger.  From  that  time  we 
were  as  brothers.  I  loved  him  ever  more,  the 
more  I  knew  him.  In  his  home,  in  his  study,  in 
the  affairs  of  his  church,  in  all  things  about  which 
brothers  consult,  we  consulted.  Friends,  I  know 
the  loyalty  to  God  and  man,  the  hope  and  trust 
and  strong  endeavor,  that  found  expression 
through  this  dust. 

He  saw  early  and  clearly  the  shadow  of  the 

15 


226        WHAT  WAS   SAID   AT   THE   GRAVE-SIDE. 

fearful  struggle  between  freedom  and  despotism, 
whose  convulsions  are  shaking  the  world  to-day. 
He  elected  openly  whom  he  would  serve  :  he 
elected  to  serve  God  and  the  slave ;  to  fight  for 
freedom  and  right.  In  this  endeavor  he  never 
gave  place,  —  no,  not  for  an  hour  ;  he  was  steady 
through  evil  report  and  good  report,  through 
honor  and  dishonor.  When  despotism  decided 
for  cannon,  he  went  into  the  camp  as  cheerfully 
as  he  ever  went  into  tlie  pulpit ;  he  was  the  same 
tireless  disciple  of  Christ  in  the  battle  as  he  had 
ever  been  in  the  church.  I  had  many  letters 
from  him  as  the  work  went  on.  He  had  sore 
trouble  for  a  time  with  a  fanatic  from  Chicago, 
who  could  not  see  how  a  man  could  be  a  Chris- 
tian preacher  if  he  did  not  roar  like  a  bull  of  Ba- 
shan.  This  man  tried  to  turn  the  hearts  of 
his  men  against  him,  and  partly  succeeded  for  a 
short  time.  He  poured  out  his  heart  to  me  in  a 
long  letter,  which  I  should  read  to  you  if  I  did 
not  know  that  my  friend  sees  all  this  now  "  with 
other,  holier  eyes  than  ours." 

I  counselled  —  what  I  knew  he  was  ready  for 
—  that  he  should  fall  back  upon  the  great  im- 
movable first  things  that  always  conquer  in  the 


WHAT   WAS    SAID    AT   THE    GRAVE-SIDE.         227 

long  run  (tenderness,  goodness,  faithful,  solid 
hospital  work),  before  which  Trinity  and  Unity 
are  shadows  to  a  rough  soldier.  I  never  had 
the  result  made  clear  until  yesterday  ;  then  it 
came  in  a  voice  from  his  regiment,  in  a  paper 
written  by  a  soldier  in  the  hospital,  and  given  to 
his  son  as  he  brought  away  the  body.  I  will 
read  you  the  main  parts  :  "  Many  hearts  will  be 
made  sad,  when  they  hear  that  our  chaplain  has 
gone  to  his  rest ;  many  a  fearless  soldier  s  eye 
will  grow  wet,  when  he  hears  that  the  brave  and 
noble  chaplain,  who  dared  the  dangers  of  Stone 
River,  who  never  turned  aside  for  bullet  or  shell, 
but,  where  balls  flew  thick  and  fast,  sought  out 
the  wounded,  and  administered  to  their  wants,  is 
dead.  Never,  while  I  live,  can  I  forget  him,  as  I 
saw  him  on  the  field,  with  his  red  flag  suspended 
on  a  ramrod,  marching  fearlessly  to  the  relief  of 
the  suffering  ;  appearing  to  the  wounded  soldier 
like  a  ministering  angel.  I  can  never  forget  the 
night  of  the  31st  December,  when  he  labored  all 
the  long  night  seeking  the  wounded.  I  can  hear 
his  voice  now,  loud  and  clear,  in  the  still  air,  cry- 
ing, '  Any  wounded  here  that  need  help  ?  '  And 
so  he  labored  to  the  end,  taking  no  rest.     When 


228        WHAT   WAS    SAID    AT   THE  GRAVE-SIDE. 

we  said,  '  Chaplain,  you  must  rest,  or  you  will 
die,'  he  always  replied,  '  I  cannot  rest,  boys, 
while  you  suffer  :  if  I  die,  I  will  die  helping  you.' 
He  sank  down  at  last  under  his  labors,  and  he  is 
dead.  Let  all  weepers  console  themselves;  wliat 
earth  has  lost,  heaven  has  gained."  Friends, 
these  are  the  words  of  a  man  in  the  ranks.  This 
is  the  testimony  of  one  who  saw  our  friend  on 
the  battle-field ;  who  witnessed  the  culminant 
glory  of  his  life  ;  who  saw  him  steady  amid  the 
fires  and  thunders  of  the  day  of  God.  0  noble 
dust !  0  beloved  and  faithful  man  !  0  true 
knight !  we  will  bury  thee  among  our  kings  ; 
with  Winthrop  and  Putman  and  Ellsworth  and 
a  great  multitude  which  no  man  can  number, 
which  have  gone  up  out  of  this  great  tribula- 
tion. And,  in  the  time  to  come,  if  men  have 
still  the  old  insight  for  what  is  good  and  great 
in  human  life ;  when  this  dust  shall  have  risen 
into  the  infinite  forms  of  another  life  ;  when  the 
marble  you  place  over  the  grave  is  dust,  and 
the  tongue  in  which  I  write  this  record  is 
dubious  or  forgotten,  —  this  one  flash  stricken 
out  by  this  soldier,  "  I  saw  him  on  the  battle-field 
marching  fearlessly  to  the  relief  of  the  wounded, 


WHAT   WAS   SAID    AT   THE   GRAVE-SIDE.         229 

with  his  red  flag  suspended  on  a  ramrod  ;  "  "I 
heard  his  voice  ring  clear  through  all  the  long 
night,  '  Any  wounded  here  ?  '  "  "I  saw  him  fall 
down  at  last  and  die,  because  he  could  not  rest 
while  we  suffered,"  —  this  history  is  immortal. 

When  the  noble  Greek  prepared  for  his  sorest 
battle,  he  put  on  his  most  beautiful  armor ;  for 
he  said,  "  If  I  fall  in  this  battle,  the  cause  de- 
serves that  I  shall  die  so  ;  and  if  we  are  victori- 
ous, I  desire  so  to  meet  victory."  Our  friend  is 
not  dead ;  he  has  put  on  his  most  beautiful 
armor,  and  met  victory.  I  cannot,  I  cannot 
mourn  him  among  the  dead.  Death  has  no  do- 
minion. We  bury  the  dust  among  our  kings : 
the  man  stands  forever  in  the  ranks  of  the  im- 
mortals. The  cause  is  consecrated  afresh  to  you 
and  me  to-day.  We  must  all  live  better  after 
this,  or  we  shall  not  stand  with  him  among  the 
sons  of  God.  He  has  taken  a  mighty  spring  ;  he 
has  gone  into  a  great  place.  Let  us  go  back  to 
our  homes  with  deeper  confidence  in  our  good 
cause  because  so  good  a  man  has  died  for  it ;  and 
let  us  never  fear  that  what  is  consecrated  by  the 
blood   of  such    martyrs  can   fail    finally    of    its 


230        WHAT   WAS    SAID    AT   THE   GRAVE-SIDE. 

purpose.  We  must  believe  with  a  more  solid 
power  in  the  ultimate  triumph  of  our  nation  in 
the  vindication  of  its  trust,  because  he  also  ''  ever 
liveth  to  make  intercession  for  us." 


'.  -<jr^ \- 


■   a:i: 


9oe.7 


COLUMBIA  UNIVERSITY 


0035521783 


BRlTTLF-nOHOI 
PHOTOCOPY 


JAN  3  ?  1955 


•-"-■'■  *■: 


